Oh not because happiness exists;

that too hasty profit snatched from existing loss...

-from The Ninth Duino Elegy translated by Stephen Mithe

Part One

Courtship

xoxoxo

Wedding Plans and a Wedding Soloution

Julie: "So... who's gunna be on your half?" I had to ask. My half was already full. My half of the guest list,that is. We've decided on a small affair, well relatively small, in the church of my childhood. He didn't go to church as a kid, and our kids won't. Oh, how church was torture. My parents wern't even that devout, they were just social. "Your dad?" I suggest.

I get a glare, and I frown. He finaly says, "No." I sigh, "You have five people."

"Who are they again?"

"Landry, your brother, Ed from the conveinece store and an uncle and aunt." This is hopeless, "What about some guys from school." and he sends you another glare. Tim hadn't really bonded so well with them. They didn't like him, and he thought they complained too much. I don't really care, but there's no way I'm having my future husband imagine his special day with barely anybody in the eight rows he was expected to fill. "What about from highschool? Any rally girls pop into your head?"

"What about Smash?" I don't even question this, I just add it to the list. "Would any of these people be plus ones?" he, of course, answars that he doesn't know.

"You can have my half too." he states, lamely.

"Your list of atleast 30 people is due tommorow, honey" I tell him, a kiss on the cheek, "I hate to tear myself away from you, but I have to call mom and work on my James Bond essay." I do call my mom, my dad's bitter when I talk to him.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks, "Is this really what you want?" He doesn't except it. He sees my boyfriend as me going phsycotic. "This is really what I want," I sigh, "Can you put mom on."

And my mother's southern drawl fills the line with sunshine. Despite her agreement with my father about my temporary insanity, she is way more excited then even me about the wedding (not so much the marriage) and is constantly phoning me and emailing me little details I may chose to include. "So I found the perfect invitations, Jules." she doesn't even adress me.

"That's great," though it would be nice to go through the motions myself, I do have my junior year of college to attend to. "What are they like?"

"They're lacey and they have..." I let her go on. I'm incredibly tired.

Tim: I wake up and have a shower like usual, but for the first time in months I'm alone when I wake up. I realize I have to finish the list in the shower. I have fifteen people on it, is it so bad I don't want to share my "special day" (as Julie's mother refers to it) with people I barely know? But it's not the only thing I'm skimming over as the water washes away the sweat with some assistance with the Oatmeal Cookie body wash that's there. (I don't realize I smell like a baked good untill a neighbor comes to the door.) I've been given a job offer, something I never suspected would happen. Who would want me playing on their team? Even if it is the much underated CFL.

When I start to shave my face the blade is dull, and I cut myself. Damn, Julie must have used it on her legs. When I walk out of the bathroom in a towel and an oozing face I see Julie typing on her laptop and she says, "What did you do?" Then a look of guilt comes over her perfect face, "I used your razer..." In the end she needs more consoling then me.

The blood on my face eventually dries, and Julie's finished her essay for the most part and her attention turns to the list I was suppoused to make up. It's less then half done, she points out. I shrug. "Why don't we get married at city hall?"

She catches my eye, looking like she's actually thinking of it, "Why don't we just get a smaller location," she finaly manages.

"It'll be ok, I'll send around a flyer." I say, she sends me a look of hate and starts to add names to my list, people from highschool and some of "our" friends which are really Julie's friends. "There we go." Julie finaly says, "On your side it'll just be a little more... roomy." I laugh at this.

"How do you feel about Canada?"

"Lame honeymoon, baby." she jokes, while proof reading the essay.

"No... for a job." she catches my eye, "What would you be doing in Canada you can't do here? Being cold?" this makes me laugh.

"Playing football."

Julie: I have no choice but to be supportive, really, "Yeah, I guess I can go to school there. Where, exactly in Canada?" I'm hoping it's not in the Artic, because Texas isn't really my thing, I don't need to live in a nation where I'm pretty sure the leading cause of death is frost bite.

"Toronto."

"Oh, that sounds great." and I continue to add names to his list. As night falls I'm laying in his bed, him asleep researching Toronto. It eventually dawns on me that I'm not moving to some place built of igloos and I was far too dramatic. I smile, actually, at the thought of an adventure with my soon to be husband.

I feel like kissing him, but I don't want to wake him. I just lean my head over, into his neck, and he smells like oatmeal. This makes me giggle some and then I'm asleep.


Authors Note: Shorter then I'd hoped. Thank you for the reviews and favourites. At the end I sort of made Julie seem like some sort of ditz but I wanted there to be a little bit of tension and everything not to just go so smoothly. Sorry for the lack of updates over the past few days, as I had a horrible, horrible torturous essay to write. Oh the joys of majoring in Lit where there's an essay due each week for each of your five classes... -Lily