Sitting on the small twin bed, with papers scattered everywhere, my darling fiancée is on the phone. We catch each other’s eyes as we are locked in a joint smile. He says good-bye on the phone and tells me it’s my turn. I take the receiver and begin to dial.

Just this morning we booked our wedding date with the church. We go in tomorrow to meet with the priest for pre-marital counseling. We don’t attend church ourselves, but knew it was the right thing to do. It is a beautiful church in the town where we grew up. We only want a small gathering. The reception will be at my dad’s house. I have never dreamed of a big wedding.

Having been together over a year and a half, both of us were about to embark on moving in together. Originally we had been planning a wedding in six months, but the urge to make it legal prevailed. We just wished to get on with our lives together minus the back door of just living together.

Through all the dramas and break-ups we had, I only wanted him. Even when we broke up, we still hung out. He knew all my secrets and wishes, as I knew his. We are best friends. We knew we were going to have some family backlash on our rush to tie the knot. No, I am not pregnant. I am 19 years old and he is 22 years old. I feel very lucky to have found a lover, a companion and a friend so early. My dreams for my future include him by my side.

I finish calling my few family and friends with the happy news. It was received with some mixed feelings due to our age. Marriage is not for everyone. It’s just for those who want to work at it.

Age is just a number on your driver’s license. There is no time clock when you ‘should’ marry, nor when you ‘should’ have kids. Friendship is the heart of every great unconditional relationship.

I stare at the popcorn marked celling. The same celling I stared at through my childhood. The wishes and dreams I whispered to it, to the tears of when my mom died and my life changed forever, this ceiling was there for me.

Tonight I am staring at the ceiling of my past getting ready for my future. In eleven hours I will be walking down the aisle of our neighbourhood church to marry my boyfriend. It is an amazing feeling to be 19 years old and realizing whom I want to marry. When I looked at the ceiling in my teenage hood I never expected to have been here today. Despite the protests from well-intentioned outside influences, we are getting married in the morning. We are too young, we heard time after time. Yet we continued with our heart.

The time on my old alarm clock blinks 11:30 pm. I should be asleep. I can feel the pulse of the street lights and the hum from the old house going to sleep. I drift off finally knowing that the wedding is just a formality to cementing my love for my best friend. Some people get their careers off right. I am getting my house in order.

The morning light peers through the beige blinds before I know it. I stir and flip on my side. The feel of my old comforter makes me realize that I am ready to move on to the next chapter of my life. I don’t miss my old history in its tragic flavour. I am eager to make new memories with my husband at my side. I love saying his name in that new way.

My ride picks me up early to take me to the hairdressers. She drops me back off at my childhood home to finish getting ready. I do my own make-up as my sister, stepmother and grandma help me put on the final touches of my bridal outfit.

My dad drives me to the church. We arrive and wait for my magical music. Walking down the aisle, all I can see is the biggest grin on my soon-to-be husband’s face. Smiling back at him and holding it there, I take his arm for our ceremony.

Before I know it we are pronounced husband and wife. We walk down the aisle as a legal couple, waving at our loved ones cheering us on. Pictures and more pictures are taken. We settle into our best man’s car and take the journey back to my childhood home for our reception.

The pot luck feast smells meets us at the door and my stomach rumbles. I barely remembered to drink wate,r let alone eat. I can’t wait to find out what people brought. Plates are devoured, champagne toasts are given and it is time for the dance. Even though we are all crammed into the living room, I want all the traditions possible. This will be my only wedding.

The night dwindles with the candles slowly fading. I look around the room at our friends, our close family and it feels right. With the family pictures adorning the walls, it’s the one of my mom that makes me feel like she is here. I wonder in her final days if she dreamed about my wedding. Having the reception at home kept costs low and memories for the rest of our lives.

Fondly, I look back eighteen years later on the magical day. Making the day simple and quaint seemed a great start to our lengthy marriage. We had friends who spent many thousands of dollars on their wedding and honeymoon. Many of those couples are not together today.

We were the couple who wasn’t supposed to stay together because of our age or backgrounds. Yet, here we are and now with two beautiful daughters. I love looking at the pictures of our wedding and telling the story of the day our family began.

It has not been a cakewalk every day. It has been a conversation that began as friends and continues in marriage. Through the grumpy days there have been many lessons learned. We put ourselves last on our personal priority lists and then switch it up. Life is never dull being married to your best friend. I imagine growing old with him and him chasing me around the seniors’ home. We will always have new things to talk about. Being friends first is so important.

Happy 19th Anniversary DUDE!!