I remember my own wedding day - still the happiest day of my life
that I can remember anyway.
I feel so blessed to have had that day.
The night before the wedding, I slept early,
blocking out the crazy family drama that weddings always bring.
That night I chose peace.
Me and my first born growing silently in my belly, we slept as though no-one else mattered.
In the morning, I floated downstairs and through the entire day.
My skin glowed, my morning sickness gave me welcome respite,
I danced and sang songs from the motherland
The sun shone but didn't cause me to break a sweat.
My face hurt from smiling.
Who gets to marry their best friend? Who gets to have all of their dreams come true?
That day, I did.
And as I watch others walk towards their future,
I want to feel happiness but instead I feel dread,
I want to shout 'don't do it!'
But of course, I don't.
That would be long and bitter and wack.
So I try and hold on to my day - that happy day where nothing & no-one else mattered.
Where it was just us against the world,
Standing in front of the congregation, secretly holding hands to calm our nerves,
Going through the fanfare of a wedding ceremony, when we would have been happy to eat chicken and chips and wear trainers and exchange Haribo rings.
Our love was a love of incense and poetry.
But where is it now...?
What happens when incense and poetry isn't enough?
When the unbreakable gets broken?
What happens when it's over?
But no-one wants to hear that at a wedding.
B***** don't kill my vibe.
So I'm glad that I didn't have to go to wedding 3 of 3,
I don't think my heart could take anymore reminiscing.
Instead, I stayed up night after night making a beautiful cake for you.
Calling upon the universe to conspire to make everything perfect for you.
Packaging the dreams of happily ever after in sugar, eggs and flour,
Baking a prosperous future into metal tins lined with parchment paper.
I'm glad that you got to have your day.
I did.
