“I can’t believe you’re getting married!”

    That was the last thing I said to my sister.  At least it was the last thing I said today before she hung up to relay the news to the rest of her friends.  She wanted me to be the first to know, and I was very happy for her.

    Her fiancé was practically an adopted member of our family already.  Everyone adored him.  Fun loving and easy to get along with, he integrated himself into all of our lives as if he was meant to be there all along.  This was especially true of his relationship with my sister. 

    He brought out the best in her, melted away her worries and insecurities and just let her do her thing.  They were one of those perfect couples that make you realize that maybe there really is such a thing as true love.  In a world where everyone seems to settle for second best, they were unequivocally a match made in heaven.

    I was so proud of her.  There were times growing up where I would question her judge of character upon meeting some of the guys she dated, but I never spoke up.  I never really had to.  A little voice inside my head always seemed to say “Don’t worry, she’ll be fine.”  And the voice was always right. 

    Sis always managed to separate the good from the bad much faster than her friends did and never had a bad relationship.  You could say she lead a semi-charmed kind of life, as if someone was looking out for her.

    And maybe somebody was.