wherein i stave off the rain by ironing for the first time in two years

Friday, I had the pleasure of attending the much-anticipated, often-postponed, but finally and flawlessly executed wedding of my beloved Frans and her (now husband) Chris. As I stood by her side on beautiful Cannon Beach, I marveled over the surprisingly cooperative and sun-shining weather, as well as the honor I felt in being the only non-related—or ceremony-performing person (see: Pastor)—present for the vow-taking that day. And I suddenly felt somehow undeserving, but equally as excited to be standing in that spot and not about to expose myself or suggest that perhaps my Frans had made a mistake in asking me to attend. Instead, I selfishly drank in the day and the experience of seeing my friend so unabashedly happy and in love.

I am someone whose cynicism about love follows her around on a daily basis, preventing her from entering into any potential relationship situations, or even considering the possibility that she might one day find herself in love with a man or at all loved in return. At times, it has been difficult to believe in the existence of romantic love in any context, and I’ve often laughed to myself over the unbelievable self-deception it must take for couples to convince themselves they’re truly in love. (Yes, I am just barely 25 and am already pathetically embittered.) But, after Friday’s beach-laden nuptials, it’s impossible not to believe in the sincerity and validity of love in this life. Perhaps not for everyone (see: me), but most definitely for Kerri and Chris. When the tears fell from Chris’ eyes the moment he laid eyes on his bride, I knew there was something to be said for this whole love thing I’ve been hearing about. And I’m so happy for my Frans that she’s been lucky enough to find it. And strong enough to make it work.

With the exception of the ceremony (and the beer-battered avocado slices), my favorite moments of the day involved finally having the opportunity to spend some quality time with my friend’s amazing and accepting and hilarious family, who made me feel entirely welcome and even essential to the occasion at hand. In spite of being the only outsider around and the seventh (and possibly superfluous) wheel to an already well-functioning family, I was treated as though my presence was somehow necessary to keep things running smoothly. And as a result of this commitment made between Kerri and Chris, I feel like my family just got a little bit bigger—a phenomenon for which I am inexplicably grateful.

I have always feared intimacy for the way it leaves us exposed, our flaws so shamelessly displayed, vulnerable to criticism and disgust. And I have avoided becoming that intimate, opening myself up to the possibility of rejection should my shortcomings be revealed. But I admire so much the honesty and exposure and trust present in the relationship Kerri and Chris share, the way every potential fault is seen and then embraced, the way they love one another for the whole of who they are. The way not worrying about being good enough for each other leaves room to work on being better together.

So, thank you, Frans, for allowing me to be a part of such an important day, for restoring in me a little bit of faith, and for encouraging me to revisit this site after so many months of not. I love you and your Chris so much, and am literally peeing my pants from the excitement of knowing that in five short weeks, you’ll be living within spitting (or a least driving) distance of yours truly. I can’t wait.