If, by some miracle, I ever get married, I think I would want a winter wedding.
Something about pine trees covered in sparkling snow, and the light bouncing off the ice over a pond sounds very romantic to me. And all of the possible color schemes are beautiful and endless! I absolutely love darker colors, so of course I would take advantage of using any plum and berry colors. Don’t even get me started on the sparkles. ‘Tis the season to cover everyone in glitter for months with no regrets.
But, I was born in the summer. I love the summer. Sleeveless dresses with flowy skirts, and it would be totally acceptable for me to throw off my shoes and walk around completely barefoot. Fruity summer drinks, sunshine, and maybe a bonfire. What doesn’t sound good about that?
If, by some miracle, I ever get married, I hope a put a lot of thought into it. I hope I am as fortunate to find someone to put up with my crazy like my mom was to find my dad. I hope my future spouse is patient with me, like my father is with my mother and his three kids and the dog. I hope I find someone who will laugh with me, and listen to me when I cry—because I can almost guarantee that I will cry… a lot—and hold my hair back as I throw up in the toilet after a night out with my friends.
I hope I find a nice house.
I hope I get a stable job that pays me more than $9.50/hour.
I hope I’m happy.
Because right now, happiness is so few and far in between that I can’t tell the difference betweeen struggling and suffering. I am stressed, and anxious, and the thought that I will wake up tomorrow morning with the same stress and anxiety that I’ve had for the past three years makes me so sick to my stomach that I want to throw up.
One day, it will get better.
These little daydreams keep me going. I live for them.