On Being Wrong

So, it finally happened:
I was wrong.
Mark the calendar, kids, it won't happen any time soon.

Or at least I'll have the good sense to let my fiance defend himself before I go telling the whole world what I'm about to be proven wrong about, anyway.

I've known Ryan for nearly five years. I didn't agree to marry a man who's faults I'm more than aware of and happen to miss something as big as being a total douchebag. Ryan is a good man, and I knew that- fortunately, he's also perfectly capable of handling my temper tantrums and freak-outs when they occur. He opened up to me today, and we talked. I remembered quickly why I fell for him in the first place. I can talk to him about anything, without exception. I sat there, at a picnic table, with who knows how many people over hearing parts of the conversation, and found myself totally comfortable anyway. I talked to him, poured my heart out and he- FINALLY- talked to me about the things he'd been holding back.

I love him, and he loves me.
Communication will get easier now that we both realize it's not just one of us who completely overthinks every little thing.

I'm grateful, loved and happy.
It feels easy, it feels real and right- because I'm engaged to a man I need never lie to or keep a secret from.
Yeah, really.