“Poppy, get back here!” Rachel grabbed her and Daniel’s two-year-old daughter around the waist and hoisted her up onto her hip. Maggie’s best friend was in an obvious state of panic. She was wearing a green dress that was still unzipped in the back and her hair was up in curlers.

Rachel looked at me and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry about busting in here like this, but Pops wanted to see her daddy,” Rachel explained handing the squirming little girl over to Daniel.

“She ran down the hallway like she was busting out of prison. She’s fast for a toddler,” Rachel wheezed, trying to get her breath.

Ruby started cooing and talking gibberish to Poppy, while the dark haired escapee giggled. Daniel blew a raspberry on the side of his daughter’s neck and her giggles morphed into near hysterics.

Rachel gave me a once over. “Not bad, Reed. You clean up real good.” She gave me a wink.

I put a hand on my chin and struck a pose. “GQ ain’t got nothin’ on me,” I joked. Rachel rolled her eyes.

“Are you okay with Poppy staying in here for a while? I still have to finish getting ready and Maggie’s a mess. Her mom is trying to do her hair and god knows if they’re both still breathing. I have to get back there and run interference,” Rachel said and my heart thudded in my chest.

In less than an hour, on this warm April day, I’d be marrying the love of my life. There were many times over the years that I thought this would never happen. I had doubted that the road would ever lead to this point. Even after Maggie agreed to be my wife, I still lived my life, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Surely she’d wake up one morning and realize she was better off without me. That the daily burden of being loved by me would prove too much.

Even as we secured a future for ourselves, I had an underlying obsessive fear that it would all come crashing down around me. That this world Maggie had given me would be taken away in an instant.

There were nights I’d wake up in a cold sweat, pulled out of nightmares where I was back at Grayson’s and I was never getting out. My therapist insisted they were anxiety dreams. He reassured me I was doing well. My meds continued to work the way they were supposed to. I diligently followed my outpatient care, which I refused to let up on all these years later.

The closer the wedding came, the stronger the anxiety. I had almost convinced myself that something would happen and Maggie would call the whole thing off. Would I ever be able to enjoy my happiness without waiting for the ceiling to cave in?

Probably not. Every day was a learning experience. Every day was a lesson in celebrating small successes. And while I didn’t think I’d ever be that guy again, the person who had self-destructed and almost taken everyone else down with him; I still saw the shadow of him in the mirror. A constant reminder of what I had almost lost but also of what I had gained.

I couldn’t think back on the last decade without being thankful for the miracles that I had been given. Maggie, Ruby, our friends, this chance to have the life I had always wanted.

I was set to graduate with my Masters in art therapy in May. I had already secured a job at a non-profit program in Washington D.C. for children with mental health issues. Maggie had decided to go back to school at night to get her Masters in education and hoped to be a school administrator. She still taught high school and there were days we didn’t see each other until darkness claimed us in exhaustion.

But we woke up together each and every morning. And that is what mattered.

There was a knock at the door and Oscar, my old roommate from Rose Heights, poked his head inside. He looked uncomfortable in his suit and tie but he seemed to take his role as usher very seriously. We had stayed in touch all these years and when he had moved to Maryland to work as a computer programmer for a development company, Maggie and I made it a point to see him regularly. He, Tyler and Maria, who were all in attendance today, were my only friends that I kept in contact with from my years in Florida.

I know it should be surprising that Maria would be at my wedding but she too had come a long way from the girl she had been. And when she had met her boyfriend, James, last year and had moved in with him, I knew she would be all right. I had learned from our periodic conversations over the years that she relapsed several times and was still struggling with living outside of treatment. But she was getting there.

And in the end, isn’t that all any of us could hope for?

“I was told to come up to get you. The minister’s here,” Oscar said, giving all of us an awkward smile.

My hands went clammy and my mouth was dry. This was it. The day I had been waiting my whole life for.

“Let’s get down there, man,” Daniel said, clasping my shoulder while Poppy tried to poke my eye. I grabbed her finger and pretended to bite it. She squealed and snatched her hand away.

“No, Uncle Clay,” she pouted, giving me a stern look.

I smiled at the tiny terror, knowing I was firmly under her little finger.

“Come on, let’s get our wedding on,” Danny joked, tucking his daughter into his side. I took a deep breath and headed for the door.

Ruby caught my hand before I went into the hallway. “Lisa would be so proud of you. I’m so proud of you. You’re the son of my heart. I love you very much,” she said with a watery smile.

I hugged my aunt and thanked the universe for giving me this woman to love me when my parents hadn’t. I had, in a moment of weakness, sent my mother and father a wedding invitation. I was never given a response and for the first time it hadn’t destroyed a small piece of my heart. It bothered me that they didn’t have the capacity to love me. I’m sure, in a way, it always would. But it no longer defined my life.