“Let’s make it a to-do every single day until then.”
“I’m going to divorce you before we get married if my phone notifications go off every day.”
Grinning, I make sure he sets a recurring notification for the next month and a half.
“Honestly, the first couple months we’ll be playing catch up since we’re supposed to take like a year to do this. On the list for months one through six that we didn’t cross out are: select a venue and caterer, choose a theme, make a guest list, insure rings we don’t have yet, wedding insurance, choose a color palette and consider design ideas, hire priority vendors like photographer, band, videographer. Shop for our wedding dresses.” I grin at him.
Yes, we left it saying dress, though I don’t believe either of us plan on wearing an actual dress. To each their own, but we’re not into wearing dresses.
“Book hotel room blocks, engagement photos—though I’m still miffed we chose to leave that on here—decide on wedding invitations, buy attire. Send save the dates, register for gifts—another thing I’m still shocked we kept—florists, bridesmaids dresses and groomsmen outfits, rehearsal venue, and ceremony musicians, though my note says that we’re going to use the same guys as the band for the reception party. Then there are rentals and hiring an officiant.”
“In a month,” Keno says. “Sure.”
“People get this done in weeks, so I think we can handle a month.”
“That’s the order of priority, right?”
“According to the lists online, yes.”
“Then we’re going to have to knock out like one every other day for the next month. Start the list again, I’ll program them in.”
We spend the next hour doing this. Arranging and rearranging until we don’t have too many tasks stacked on a single day. We’re constantly questioning whether we need something, wanting to shorten this list, but we always come back to not wanting regrets.
We’re getting married once. We both agree on that. So this wedding needs to be everything.
Then we tackle the following five months of tasks, thankfully spacing them out quite a bit so we’re not so overwhelmed. One of the more exciting aspects we’re looking forward to is booking our honeymoon. I don’t know if we’re warming up to the idea of lots of sex or just being together. Personally, I think maybe it’s a touch of both.
Not going to lie—after looking over Keno’s extensive sex research, I’ve been a lot hornier lately. The shower has seen me and my hand often.
When we’re finished with the wedding shit, we add a couple more items that weren’t included and are probably more unique to our situation than what’s typical. On Christmas Day, we add ‘tell families.’ On the twenty-ninth of December when we play Toronto again, we note ‘tell friends.’
Then we make sure those coincide with everything else, like changing our statuses online and modern-day stuff like that.
We’ve already got something on our list to do today. Though, we also added ‘choose date’ and then knocked that bitch off as complete. It’s nice to see progress.
“Okay, now… what do we do with the sex list?” Keno asks, changing his screen to the list we whittled down to things we’re willing to explore. I’m not sure if he’s excited or still very nervous.
“What if we treat it the same way? Give ourselves deadlines to work up to for the different sexy acts?” I suggest.
“Sure, but let’s not call them deadlines. It sounds like work.”
I laugh. “Okay, what’s first?” I tap out of my list and open the calendar app we share. Oh yeah, December and January look frightening. Especially seeing all the games and training schedules added in. We’re not sleeping for the next month and a half. I appreciate how it’s all color coded—games in maroon, because that’s one of the team colors. Training sessions in gray—another team color. He added wedding stuff in white, which must be a play on the virgin tradition that neither of us is bringing to the table.
Maybe for the sex stuff, I’ll give it a sultry red. No, that’s too close to maroon. Hot pink! Yep, that’s it. Pink for the win.
“I guess we’re starting off PG with cuddling and handholding,” Keno says. “No cutting corners.”
That’s what we decided. We’re doing things until it becomes natural. All the little gestures, like holding hands.
“Maybe that’s a daily task for the next six weeks. We make it a point to hold hands at least once a day. And cuddle too.”
Keno looks at me. “Really?”
I nod. “You’re worried about the affectionate part of our relationship and we both saw it was a little awkward because we’ve altered the terms of our relationship even though nothing has truly changed yet. I think if we add a lot of these little things in, like kissing, holding hands, hugging, and cuddling as adaily reminder, we’re going to fall into a habit where we become comfortable showing each other affection.”
The smile I receive is soft and maybe… touched? Like he appreciates the thought I put into it. The consideration I’ve taken.
“Yeah. Let’s do that.”
