Ok...I need like one more paragraph in my essay for the priest. Can anyone help?
Can anyone give me another idea for a paragraph about why I love my FI? I don't want to be cliche and I seem to be experiencing writer's block. The priest incorporates the essay into the ceremony.
Why Dylan?
The first time I met Dylan at a mutual friend’s dinner party, I thought he was “a good catch.” In fact, I thought he was such a good catch, that I offered to introduce him to one of my eligible girlfriends. Dylan took me up on my offer. I found a few beautiful, intelligent women who were willing to meet him for a blind date. Fortunately, for me, my attempt at matchmaking failed as badly as the other dozen times I tried to play Cupid.
As weeks passed and my interactions with Dylan ceased, I heard through our mutual friends that Dylan had expressed interest in dating me. But unfortunately, it was not the right time for us; my grandfather was quickly dying from stomach cancer. Since my mind was preoccupied with the turmoil my family was experiencing, the thought of beginning a relationship with someone was distant.
My grandfather’s illness and death were hallmarks for me. It forced me to take inventory of my life and the people in it. I had experienced such deep sadness when he passed away and the shocking absence of my grandfather’s presence caused me to challenge a lot of my beliefs about love and relationships. I had always hoped to find a man who would love me as much as my father loved my mother, however I was convinced that it was impossible to find someone who was as unbelievably patient, unusually generous, and extraordinarily selfless.
Less than a month after the funeral, I had the opportunity to meet Dylan again. But this time was different than our previous meeting. There was an obvious chemistry between the two of us. I remember that jittery feeling I got when he casually touched my arm when he talked with me. I remember wanting to get just close enough to get another whiff of his cologne. And I remember secretly wanting to kiss him. I guess he felt the same way because within two days we were together again at his apartment. After that night, Dylan jokes that I never left. In some sense, he is absolutely correct. We never left each other physically and emotionally.
For the last six years, Dylan has become more than my companion. Like my father, he has never disappointed me. Whether it be knowing exactly what to say to comfort me or just promising to be some place at a certain time, Dylan has always honored his word. I have learned that when Dylan utters the phrase, “I’ll try,” I can simply interpret that as “it’s done” because he always comes through.
Dylan is also easy to love because he loves me despite my flaws. It is no secret that I am not exactly domestically inclined. I have never cooked a good meal, I always leave toothpaste in the sink after I brush, and I insist on keeping the temperature of our home 78 degrees during both the winter and summer. While he may complain (and sometimes he even complains a lot), he has never asked me to change. He has never bought me a cookbook or reminded me that I should not wear tank tops everyday if I am always freezing. And he knows better than to waste his time trying to convince me to clean the bathroom sink. Instead, Dylan has committed to a life of eating out, housekeepers, and me denying that I shut the air conditioner off.
Why Dylan?
The first time I met Dylan at a mutual friend’s dinner party, I thought he was “a good catch.” In fact, I thought he was such a good catch, that I offered to introduce him to one of my eligible girlfriends. Dylan took me up on my offer. I found a few beautiful, intelligent women who were willing to meet him for a blind date. Fortunately, for me, my attempt at matchmaking failed as badly as the other dozen times I tried to play Cupid.
As weeks passed and my interactions with Dylan ceased, I heard through our mutual friends that Dylan had expressed interest in dating me. But unfortunately, it was not the right time for us; my grandfather was quickly dying from stomach cancer. Since my mind was preoccupied with the turmoil my family was experiencing, the thought of beginning a relationship with someone was distant.
My grandfather’s illness and death were hallmarks for me. It forced me to take inventory of my life and the people in it. I had experienced such deep sadness when he passed away and the shocking absence of my grandfather’s presence caused me to challenge a lot of my beliefs about love and relationships. I had always hoped to find a man who would love me as much as my father loved my mother, however I was convinced that it was impossible to find someone who was as unbelievably patient, unusually generous, and extraordinarily selfless.
Less than a month after the funeral, I had the opportunity to meet Dylan again. But this time was different than our previous meeting. There was an obvious chemistry between the two of us. I remember that jittery feeling I got when he casually touched my arm when he talked with me. I remember wanting to get just close enough to get another whiff of his cologne. And I remember secretly wanting to kiss him. I guess he felt the same way because within two days we were together again at his apartment. After that night, Dylan jokes that I never left. In some sense, he is absolutely correct. We never left each other physically and emotionally.
For the last six years, Dylan has become more than my companion. Like my father, he has never disappointed me. Whether it be knowing exactly what to say to comfort me or just promising to be some place at a certain time, Dylan has always honored his word. I have learned that when Dylan utters the phrase, “I’ll try,” I can simply interpret that as “it’s done” because he always comes through.
Dylan is also easy to love because he loves me despite my flaws. It is no secret that I am not exactly domestically inclined. I have never cooked a good meal, I always leave toothpaste in the sink after I brush, and I insist on keeping the temperature of our home 78 degrees during both the winter and summer. While he may complain (and sometimes he even complains a lot), he has never asked me to change. He has never bought me a cookbook or reminded me that I should not wear tank tops everyday if I am always freezing. And he knows better than to waste his time trying to convince me to clean the bathroom sink. Instead, Dylan has committed to a life of eating out, housekeepers, and me denying that I shut the air conditioner off.
