I did not have the heart to wake up at 4A.M. for the start of the Royal Wedding coverage. For the Brits, it was perfectly timed, love confirmed before their eyes but for me, it was ungodly early.

Luckily, the festivities across the pond have been replayed on nearly every news network and given top billing. And so I sat through discussions about the dress, remembering Diana and what it means to “be a royal.”

About a month ago when the 30-day countdown to the wedding began, I blocked out all those discussions. I cared, but barely, and I certainly did not get the fanfare around the event.

Now, with the big day here, I think I get the hoopla now.

Prince William and Kate Middleton inspire belief in happily ever after. And for me, that phrase has become problematic not because it sounds like chalk on a chalkboard, but because it feels like a 100 count down pillow. In my head, happily ever after is for fairy tales, for those daydreams I have when I can close my eyes and think about ‘when it all comes together.’

But in a life where nothing seems to ever fall into place, what does one do with “happily ever after?”

A few months ago, I made a mental note of my assumptions when it came to love. What I thought first. Would he call? No. Would we hit it off? Eh. Would it work? Questionable. Every first thought was cynical. Every moment was dissected. Everything was a symbol for something else. Something worse was around the corner. And it’s hard, I think, when love feels like nothing but exposure.

There’s a beautiful Maya Angelou quote that I keep on my fridge to remind me, that there is more than exposure. It reads:

Today, allow yourself to believe in happily ever after, and trust that life hasn’t given up on you just yet.

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