The other evening, I ran across this journal entry.
Sept. 26, 2009 (Three-and-a-half months after meeting A.)
I haven’t said this to him yet, but this I know to be true: I am in love with A. I love everything about him, and I can’t keep my hands off of him. I’m happy when I’m with him, I’m happy when I’m away from him and I’m confident he has strong feelings for me, too. It’s scary, oh so scary, to feel this way – but my god, do I adore that man.
When I found the entry, I was sitting next to A. on the couch, and I read it out loud to him and tears welled up in my eyes from happiness. And I laughed at myself for crying at how much I love the man.
This morning, our nearly four-month-old son is playing on his tiny gym, talking to himself (blowing the bubbles in his mouth) and I’m sorting through contracts (DJ, photographer, hair and makeup) to plan our wedding.
I’m amazed at how quickly such major life changes have happened. And I feel ridiculously lucky to have found A.
That is all.