Looking out at the crowd, seeing all of the familiar faces. The elderly woman trying to look half her age; as if it wasn’t her 27-year-old daughter who was getting married today. Wearing way too much makeup, a low-cut top, her shiny hair glistening in the sun; she smiles at her husband, so sure that everyone is thinking, “She looks great for her age.” He ignores her.
The bridesmaids are all standing in line, looking bored and anxious, awaiting the bride’s big arrival. One of them is chewing gum…figures. The groomsmen on the left look just as bored, but also warm. Their red faces blushed by not only the heat but by the 4 shots they each did before the ceremony.
The ring bearer struts down the aisle to the all-too-familiar Canon in D. He starts to realize everyone is looking at him in his suit, and he shyly places the pillow over his face. Everyone chuckles and murmurs, “awww…”
The flower girl is up next, she’s younger than the ring bearer, and takes the pressure far worse. She gets to the aisle, takes a look around for a minute, then bursts into tears. “Awww…” She drips thick tears down her satin dress, leaving wet stains as memoirs. She runs up the aisle, throwing the flower basket to the ground. Her mother runs out, embarrassed at her little girl’s performance, and quickly scoops her up, hoping that people will just pretend that this didn’t just happen.
I look up at the sky. It’s a clear blue day. Way too bright for my liking but it’ll have to do. No rain on our wedding day. Isn’t that supposed to be good luck? Guess it’s nothing but the bad coming our way. Awesome.
Dum Dum Da Dum…
There she is, looking at me square in the face. Walking in time with her dad, who’s also looking at me square in the face. He’s got a look that says, “You hurt her, I’ll maim you in front of everyone here.” A deep breath, a long exhale.
Dum Dum Da Dum…
This is the longest song ever.
I’m wringing my hands into an uncomfortable knot, realizing that in moments her hands will be in them and probably won’t appreciate the clamminess of them. I discreetly wipe them on my pants.
She takes about a day and a half to walk up the aisle. Finally she’s at my side. She looks at me, smiling. I fake a smile as best as I can, knowing that this can only end badly.
A year from now, we’ll be arguing about buying a certain type of bread or something, screaming at each other in a decibel range that the folks on Mars can probably hear.
A deep breath, a long exhale.
“I do.”
