I stayed up until 5:30 this morning watching one girl’s fairy tale come true.

Now, I want it noted that I understand that her life from this point forward (and, truth be told, for the past ten years) will not be simple. It might be simplified by a royal fortune and a few extra household staff, but she will have to contend with forces I cannot begin to imagine. As much as I hate going to the grocery store, I do like that I can go there without several dozen paparazzi following me through the produce department and watching me squeeze avocados. This is a luxury she won’t have.

But I sat here and watched as she exchanged vows with her prince. Me and about two billion other people around the world. Nicole, one of my online gamer friends, and Rebecca, a self-described “organizational monster”, and I messaged back and forth over the course of several hours and three time zones.  We lamented neglecting to have fancy hats and began our plan to attend the coronation sometime in the future. We critiqued every detail. We decided that Diana would have been very, very proud.

Kate’s prince will someday be the king of England. I have to wonder who my prince will be.

I joked earlier that when I marry Prince Harry, I’d like the ceremony and reception to be at Balmoral. In reality, I don’t need much. It won’t be about the flowers, or the dress, or the ring, or the catering: it will be about finally finding that one person who completes me.

Every girl I know has some idea of what she wants her wedding to look like and I’ll admit I’ve had contingency plans for every season. The fall wedding is rustic; think rough hewn wood and pumpkins and Indian corn. The spring is daffodils and clover. Winter? Winter is silvery snowflakes and icy blue hues.

But it doesn’t matter. What matters is looking into his eyes, taking a deep breath, and saying,”I do.”

Congratulations to the groom. Best wishes to the bride.