I'm getting married today.

I have to keep reminding myself that this is real—this is my life. That I'm not still trapped in a crazy coma dream.

I sort of feel like I should be nervous. Aren't people supposed to get cold feet, even just a little bit? Then again...I've probably got a leg-up here. After all, Daniel and I have been married before. Hundreds of times before.

My family still thinks I'm sort of insane. As far as they know, I've only known him for six months. To them, that seems a little too short an engagement. As Alec so colorfully put it: A serial killer could probably keep the bodies hidden for at least six months.

It's not like I can explain to them that I've actually known Daniel for centuries.

And I've finally remembered all of those centuries. Or, well, most of them. But Daniel says that the Stone Age is a blur, even for him. Maybe it's too far away or maybe our brains weren't developed enough? I don't know. Neither does he, but it isn't something I worry about too much.

I remember enough. Sometimes more than enough.

There's a price to pay for all the time we get together. All the time ordinary people don't have.

Namely, that price is nightmares. About once a week, we're both jerked from sleep by the horrors of a past life.

I honestly don't know how he's stood it all these years by himself. I would have gone crazy for real if he wasn't there every single time to pull me from my nightmares. To hold me and whisper that it was okay—that it was a long time ago.

But now he's not alone. Neither am I. And we're both willing to vow that we won't be alone, ever again.

Ha. Still no nerves.

He's starting to wake up now.

It's astonishing how happy that makes me. How ridiculously, completely in love I am with him.

                                                                                        ~~*~~

"What are you writing now?" Daniel murmured, still groggy with sleep as he rolled over. I put my newest journal on the bedside table, then let out a surprised huff when his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me across the bed so I was curled up in the hollow of his body.

"Nothing important." I wiggled around so I could face him.

"It's always important," he said with a wry smile.

For the past months, I'd been writing down all those new/old memories, hoping that would help them settle into place. And it's worked a little—I haven't been ambushed by a memory in a long time. Plus, it's sort of satisfying, in a way, to see the chronicles of our lives down on paper like that.

Now instead of thinking that people would be bored reading my journals, I start laughing over how they might react to someone who claims to have lived hundreds of lives. If I'm honest, if I didn't have Daniel, I probably wouldn't even believe what I write down.

But I do have him.

"We're getting married today," he said, eyes still closed and voice muzzy with sleep.

I wrapped my arms around him and he rolled onto his back so I was resting on his chest. I shivered when he ran his fingers through my hair, letting the dark strands snarl around his fingers. "Uh-huh," I said, kissing his chest, his collarbone, his throat. "Last chance to back out."

Daniel just laughed, like I'd said something utterly ridiculous. "Nice try. But I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

He opened his eyes and drew me into a long kiss. When I pulled away to look at him, I could see all the centuries I'd been stuck with him shining there.

"Forever," he warned with a teasing smile

But his joke held a weight that I felt down in my bones. I kissed him again before resting my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. This was another thing that always stayed the same—the rhythm of his heart was as familiar to me as my own.

"Forever," I promised.