Learning to Believe in Happily-Ever-Afters

I've never been a girly girl. As a child, I preferred bugs to dolls and books to dresses. Yeah, I'm not that much different as an adult, either. As my life experience invariably grew year after year, I found myself becoming embittered, cynical, and suffering a bad case of the mully grubs. A string of failed relationships followed by a failed marriage is enough to turn even the warmest heart to ice, and I was no exception.

In the summer of 2012, I found myself moving to a new house in a new town to start my new single life. I was fully prepared to live out the rest of my days as a spinster recluse and had no doubt that one day neighborhood children would think I'm some kind of evil witch and thus be too afraid to even walk past my house.

Oh, well. At least I had my pets, my writing, and an active social life… on Facebook. That would be enough, right?

Wrong.

Sometimes rock bottom is a good place to be. As those annoyingly optimistic people like to say, “You can only go up from here.” For once, they were actually right about something.

So I met a guy. A pretty great guy, actually. And I did everything in my power to friend-zone him. How rarely things go according to plan.

We grew closer and closer through a string of Facebook conversations, then started spending some time together in the real world. It didn't take me long to see that he was a genuinely kind man who liked me for who I am—warts and all.

My mind was blown.

After a month of chatting online, we spent a 4-day weekend together in constant company. At the conclusion of which, we shared our first kiss. Well, that was the end of my resistance to love. He practically moved in then and there, and we officially started living together within a month. Two months later, we snuck off and eloped in a beautiful ceremony in the park that was made even more special because it was just for us.

As of today, we've been together for nearly 7 months—more of it married than not. And you know what? I'm deliriously happy. Neither of us thinks we're worthy of the love the other gives, which makes us absolutely perfect for each other. While we do in fact live real life together—chores, financial decisions, and serious talks about the future—we also still whisper sweet nothings, slow dance in the living room, hold hands, and find special ways to express the love that's just bursting from both of our hearts.

What changed? How did I go from a future of certain spinsterhood to a love zealot?

I just happened to meet the right person. It seems so simple, yet so immensely difficult. If such a thing as soul mates exists, then we have—what?—a 1 in 3.5 billion chance of meeting our perfect other? I never believed it could happen for me… until it did and at the absolutely perfect time, might I add.

I learned to believe in happily-ever-after when I met and married the embodiment of mine. I love you, Falcon!

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