This is it, folks. It's officially one year since I asked Becky to be my lady, and she agreed. For a day that was supposed to be dedicated to selfishness and doing nothing together, it's been busy...for my beloved. She held off on doing laundry until today, as well as putting off food shopping. She only stepped out moments ago to take care of the latter.
That said, we have still managed to make plans for this evening that focus on us. With her classes over for the moment, we'd been hoping to be able to do more together. Alas, my foot has made long walks, visits to cafes, or shopping trips to wherever things for which we'll have to wait. But this is our anniversary, and I've insisted that we do SOMETHING. Thus, we're going to the movies. We have a theater in walking distance...but we'll be driving because of the foot of doom. It's limited play list kind of forced us into selecting Thor for tonight. Personally, I couldn't care less what we see, as long as we do something together to celebrate.
Then again, we didn't need to do anything at all, as I believe we spend every day celebrating the romance we've discovered.
It's been particularly trying for me of late. One little tip in the wrong direction and I believe I'd become undone at the seams. Thinking of when I lived in KS, I was at least able to collect my own trash and get it out of my room for the guys to dispose of. Now...? Well, it's been days since I showered, and that's because even the fastest cleaning session means I'll be a few hours recovering afterward. I have to brace myself to go refresh my drinks when Becky isn't around. Even sitting at my computer, as I am now, has its limits. (It's been almost four weeks since I've played City of Heroes. Now you KNOW something's wrong.)
Becky might as well be a prescription, as she's just what the doctor ordered. She's not only been supportive of my inability to do much of anything, but has insisted on my getting plenty of rest. When I start complaining about how little I can do, she gets a bit stern with me, reminding me that this is nothing I asked for, and that she's okay with handling all that needs to be handled.
She gets something out of me in return. Her reward for doing all the work around here is having the man she loves trapped in bed, fully available for cuddling and kisses. It's not like I can run away, y'know? And it's ultimately adorable when she demands payment in kisses. It's the perfect economic system between people who love one another. =)
Free time, without classes to weigh her down, also means Becky starts getting to do something she's been liking more and more, and that's planning the wedding that won't happen for another three years. She simply couldn't resist buying a few bride magazines, flipping pages, and pointing out every dress that she thinks would be perfect. The only thing that shatters these dreams are the price tags. (Do people really spend $7,000 on clothing they'll only wear once?)
While she wants input into the wedding plans, I've made it as clear as I can. "Women want a wedding, while guys just want to be married." It's HER day. As far as I'm concerned, we could wear burlap sacks and have the ceremony in a barn, as long as she and I walk away as husband and wife. And so she has started planning the wedding, with me agreeing to most of what she says.
However, for those who might be thinking that I'm simply shrugging my shoulders with a kind of "whatever" attitude, allow me to correct you. There's been plenty I've had to say about various things, including her selections of dresses. If anything, she's been paying particular attention to a dress design that popped into my head. I got it into my head that she should have a white dress with deep red roses and green stems as part of its design. We have years to settle on anything, but every dress she looks at sees that little conversion, if only to see if it would work.
Becky obviously wants to do her best to be that which I might consider a "dream bride."
The reality s that my dream bride will support me when I'm at my worst, loving me regardless of whether or not I can provide her with material desires. She'll look at me in the morning, my "bed-head" providing me with seemingly demonic horns made of hair, and still call me handsome. She'll worry with me when things are bad, and celebrate with me when things are good. And so far, that's exactly what I have.
And since I know my beloved Becky will be reading this later...
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, BABY...AND MANY MORE TO COME!
Be well, all, and DFTBA!