I’ve gone through six pads of paper. Six pads of paper, which are all now scrunched up and covered in smudged ink and grease from KFC fingers, all because I can’t for the life of me write my wedding vows.
In just under two months, I’m going to stand next to my partner of three-and-a-half years in a dress that costs more than my car, in front of all our family and friends and even some people I don’t even know.
And I have no bloody clue what to say. Legitimately, I have no words. Not even a sentence to sum up our relationship.
Not the hundreds of amazing days we’ve spent together, walking our dog, eating halloumi and laughing until we’re red in the face. Or the 80 odd average days when I couldn’t have given a stuff about his cricket game, and we drove home in the car in silence.
Not even the 25 really, really hard days, during which I wasn’t sure if it was going to work out between us after all, but that I also couldn’t have gotten through without him.
How is it possible to love someone so much, and yet have nothing nice to say about them? What does that say about me?
This is why I think I’m actually going to outsource my wedding vows.