I�m getting married in April. I�m 33.

It�s been a looooong time since I�ve had to share my space, and it�s taking some work on my part.

It�s the intimacy thing.

No, not the sexual intimacy thing. It�s the �I�m never going to be alone again� intimacy thing.

Now, as I write this, a lump has formed in my throat. I mean, that is the essence of love, right? Two hearts, two souls coming together as one.

It�s just that I don�t think the poets considered �poo time.�

Ah now, don�t be shy. It�s a natural fact of life. There comes a time when everyone needs to be alone in the bathroom to focus and reflect�on, well�things.

And here, you see, is the crux of the matter: My fianc� and I have crossed the last barrier to intimacy, the poo barrier.

Now, how it was that he came to find me seated on the throne with my jeans around my ankles and my dog trying to steal the wad of tissue (yes, clean) out of my hand is really beside the point. Hilarious, perhaps, but beside the point.

Which is, what does crossing the poo line mean to our relationship?

To him, perhaps, just a reality check: Despite the front that I�ve shown him, he knows now that yes, indeed, my sh!t does stink.

To me, it�s another kind of reality check: Love really does make you totally vulnerable to the one you love.

It�s funny, but not, you know?

This man I�m marrying will know ALL my secrets, down to the time of day I like to go�reflect�on things.

I love him, God help me. And I�m trying to be okay with that.

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