Dear best friend,

Well… it’s been one week. Do you feel different?

Because I do.

A week ago I saw you make the best decision of your life — just seven days ago. Just 168 hours. It might as well have been a lifetime.

I had been tearing up all morning. In the midst of all the chaos, every few minutes my mind would settle and I would realize just what was åhappening. I stood next to you in that white dress when you grabbed my shoulder blade and whispered, “Love you.” I always lose it first, but I blame you for causing that one.

I’ll never forget the moment right before we all walked down that long, red-brick aisle. I think I was more nervous than you were. Right before I made those synchronized steps, I looked back expecting to catch your eye. The sun was shining behind that little house and the rays spewed out above your twisted hair. You were glancing down at your new blue-eyed brother with a giant smile. And I realized that I’d never seen you more at peace. You were sure. You’d been sure for a long, long time.

My mind slipped back to my 12 hour car ride days before with the man who would be yours in minutes. I snickered to myself. I had made him recount the entire relationship to me during the drive. The sky turned pink and purple as we drove into the Dallas skyline, and he played a song for me.

“Cause when you love me where I am, baby I’m a better man.”

You make him better. No matter where he is — in sadness, in doubt, in ecstasy, or in a gazebo with a ring — you always make him better. You make me better, too. I looked around. You make us all better. 

There was a moment in the ceremony when I was up there next to you, and I closed my eyes for a second.

My skin tingled from the sunshine, I heard a couple birds chatting, and a slight breeze swept my hair behind my ear. Our friends sang. “I wanna live my forever, forever like that.” Everything I truly loved was closer than 50 feet from me. For a minute I remembered what heaven on earth felt like. It was one of those moments — the kind we could talk about for hours. I felt like I had been swimming in the deep end for years and my head had finally found its way above water. I could breathe. In and out. Love felt as gracious as air. I wanna live my forever, forever like that.

You’ve been married one week and you’ve probably already had your first argument. My guess is you told him repeatedly not to forget something, he assured you that he’d have to be a moron to forget it, and he undoubtedly forgot it. You sat in silence for a couple of minutes until your fingers intertwined and you both remembered that you’re having the best week of your life.

I hope that on the difficult days — when you aren’t on your honeymoon — this letter might be a small reminder of how good it is. I hope you remember how you make him better. How he makes you better. And how you both make me better. All of us better.

I hope you remember that on the day you said, “I do”… we all got a glimpse of heaven. For that, we are grateful.

Rooting for you.