September 8, 2012.
It was the date we chose. A date just five months from our engagement. The date printed on every invitation. The date on which we would marry.
There was a time when we were both excited, when we were eager for this new chapter of our life to begin. We had spent so much of our relationship apart—half of it, practically—and now, finally, we had the opportunity to be together. To live together. To share together the small, everyday moments that make up this crazy, human world.
Like everyone else, we were stressed while trying to sort out the details of our day. Do we want to make some of the food ourselves? How do we want to set up the tables? I don’t know. Are the decorations really going to cost that much? I don’t want to do that. Why would we have to invite so-and-so? Do we have to? I don’t know. Deposits. Deposits. Deposits. I don’t know. I just don’t know.
I thought the doubts were from the stress of the situation—from the necessity of having to complete everything in such a short time. From having to respond to individuals who wanted their say in how our wedding should be planned. As it turned out, the doubts and the stress and the tears had nothing to do with the planning—they had to do with the marriage itself.
There were the practical hindrances—we both ended up jobless, practically homeless. We had no idea where we would be working, even living for that matter. How was this going to work, we asked ourselves. Weeks into counseling, we realized we also had the typical hesitations, doubts. September 8, 2012 seemed so close. Would we be able to find jobs? A suitable place to live? Could we survive? Would we be happy? Are we sure, without a doubt, that this is the right decision?
After some intense discussions—with family, close friends, our pastor, each other—we concluded that the best decision, for now, was to postpone the wedding. It was an incredibly difficult decision—something that tested our emotions a great deal. However, this—the choice to wait—was the right and wise decision. It would give us time to find employment, a place to call home. It would give us more opportunity to learn, to explore who we are as a couple and as individuals.
Since we began telling people a week ago, we have received nothing but support. Those who know us best know we did our best to make an adult decision—one that was difficult, but one that would leave us with more options and more opportunities. We knew it would be best to address our practical and emotional struggles on this side of marriage rather than the other. We did not wish to begin our life together as stressed, pushed-to-the-limit, fragile individuals. Had we gotten married this coming weekend, we would’ve either grown closer together or been pushed apart. We did not want to take that risk—jeopardize three-and-a-half years for things we could perhaps adjust and address in the next few months.
For now, we do not have another date in mind. We thought it best to detach ourselves from a schedule, especially since we had just been under the oppression of one. The focus, for now, is to get settled. Be comfortable. Be ourselves. There will be a time for happily ever after. It just isn't September 8, 2012.