My sister has put the last year of her life into planning her wedding. And I must say, it showed. It was beautiful and frantic and emotional and fun, all wrapped into one.
It was supposed to be a dry (no booze, but tears are allowed, if not encouraged) wedding, but my brother and I changed that. I said it was “fun,” didn’t I? Nothing is fun about dry. Nothing. If you’re thinking of something to refute that, you’re not thinking of anything dirty.
Speaking of dirty, at breakfast my aunt was talking about some Christian romance author that lives near her and we both agreed that Christian romance sounds like a real drag. “I want to read a book about the Christian girl with the messy hair,” she said.
I could write that. That shit is real. No matter how beautiful something looks, is there really such a thing as a fairy tale romance? I don’t think so. Relationships take work and compromise and tears and arguments. Anything less than that belongs in the fiction section.