the countdown begins.

In less than one month, Jordan will be a law school graduate.

Every time this impending event comes up in conversation, I get sympathetic looks, the ones that say: “I bet you are so ready for this!” and “I know you’ve been waiting for this day!”

It’s apparently a well-known fact that I must be sick of this law school thing, ready for my husband to get out and make us the big bucks.

The truth is, I’m not.

Don’t get me wrong. Being married to a law student is no easy task. They’re a unique breed, and I’m fairly certain not just anyone could be married to one (though, in fairness, not just anyone could be married to me, either).

But I’ve kind of enjoyed this in-between stage we’ve been in together. This “not-quite-adults, not-quite-children” stage. The stage where everyone feels sorry for us and gives us free food. (Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think they do that for lawyers.)

I like being married to a hard-working student. Sure, some nights he keeps me up late, pouring over cases and making outlines. But other nights, I keep him up late, watching Felicity episodes with the volume too loud. So we’re even.

I like the freedom that comes with him being in school. We get to enjoy lunches together, and if he’s home before me, he can start dinner or load dishes.

Most of all, I like knowing that my husband is doing something he loves.

Because Jordan really does like law school.

A lot of students don’t, and I think this whole process would have been harder if I knew he was getting up every morning to conquer something he hated.

It also would have been hard if I had gotten married with expectations of Jordan filling every need I’ve ever had.

But I didn’t.

I went into this knowing he would be busy.

That some days I would be alone.

That some times he would be stressed.

That I’d have to bear some of the financial burden.

And I married him anyway.

Not because I was coerced, not because I was desperate, but because I loved him, and I knew I could handle it.

Because I like being busy too.

I enjoy alone time, and I can ease his stresses, perhaps better than anyone else.

I am fully capable of working and providing for a family to ensure my husband gets the education he wants and deserves.

These 18 months have been a balancing act, in so many ways.

But I have enjoyed almost every minute.

And for Jordan, I know May 8 probably can’t come soon enough.

But for me, I need these next four weeks to drift slowly by.

Because soon, our lives will change.

Graduation means adulthood.

It means he'll be working. Full-time.

We'll have shorter — or altogether separate — lunches.

He'll have longer hours. (I read John Grisham books. I know what associates work.)

It means being a lawyer’s wife, a role all too daunting for me to even begin to discuss here.

It means wondering if Jordan’s doing something he loves every day.

It means change. (And we all know how well I deal with that.)

In four weeks, Jordan will walk across the stage, get some kind of hood placed on his shoulders, and that will be the end.

A closed door on this chapter of our lives.

And I really, really, really hate to say goodbye.