“Sweetie, we need to start thinking about the ceremony. Like who we are going to invite, where we’re going to have it, and what caterer we are going to use. There is a lot to decide!”, Mark said when he sat down next to me up in the office. I looked at the calendar. It is four months away!

Christ, it's just four months away.
Christ, it’s just four months away.

When we’re doing something, Mark loves to make up lists. He can fill up his bulletin board with post-its: reminders, itineraries, shopping lists. He loves to think of everything far in advance of actually doing what he is planning.

And thus, we sat down in the kitchen with a large notepad between us in order to start the list making and reminders, and I couldn’t think of a single thing that needed to be done now, but since I also know him, and know that he won’t be happy until we’ve done it, I tried to contribute.

I love seeing him happy, and he was smiling so much while we did it. It makes me warm and cuddly seeing him smile like that about marrying me. While we won’t be proper husband and husband in August, only civil partners, real marriage should come soon enough. Our civil partnership should be automatically transmuted into the real thing once the bill that was passed earlier makes its way through the legislative bureaucracy.

The easiest for us to plan and decide on  is probably the guest list. Who more than my aunts, my cousins and Scottish uncle, my parents, my friends should come? I’ll let Mark decide who is important enough in his overfilled family. I haven’t met more than a few of them, and there are hundreds scattered about all over the South East and South West. For me, the list of relevant relatives is a short list.

In fifteen minutes we had scribbled down something like forty names in two columns: his relatives on one side and mine on the other. It feels like that is just the start of the process. Mark already wants to get invitation cards and do them as soon as possible, so that we only have to send them when the timing is more reasonable. He also wants us to start shopping for caterers, and to start having a look around for wedding suits.

“You realise that this is going to be expensive?” I tell him. “I don’t care,” he says, which is unusual. “This is a special thing. Mum and dad has offered some. I’ll put aside some. You have your savings. It’ll be fine. It’ll be great.”

Looking at that list of names, it struck me that it is getting closer to that time when we do get married. On August 16th we’re supposed to be wed. Instead of what I felt before, that there was lots of time, the fact is that it is no time at all. Just four months. That makes me so incredibly happy that I want to explode.