Settle in, reader. I'm about to throw out some theories that are not commonly accepted.
I love Beau. I will love him forever. We are well suited for each other. We're a good fit in each other's lives and, if I may be so bold, in each other's families.
He is not my soulmate.
And I'm not his.
And we're both fine with this.
Remember how Grey's Anatomy taught us we all had a person? As in, "you're my person."
We are certainly each other's people in the way that we can depend on each other for big and small things. We have a partnership I am really proud of.
But we aren't soulmates.
Beau's soulmate is his best friend. They were college roommates. They talk all day, every day. His best friend lives two time zones away; I've never met him, but I certainly feel like I already know him.
He's our best man. Beau said he wouldn't feel married without his best friend as his best man. I had to get myself a best maid because Beau said he couldn't get married without his person at the altar with us.
My person, for as long as I can remember, has been my grandmother.
And she's another topic for another post. She's the elephant in the room of this #emmy30.
Because she has chosen not to attend our wedding.
I asked my cousin to be my best maid not only because she's the closest thing I have to a sister, but because she will understand better than anyone that I need someone to stand beside me and make sure that I don't fall apart in our grandmother's absence, that the grief doesn't overwhelm me, that I remain focused on marrying the person I love most in the world.
I am grateful she said yes.