The weddings.

We were wed nine months apart. 

 

Same church.

Same minister.

Same hall.

Same food.

Same DJ.

Same relatives.

Some of the same friends.

 

Mine was first.

It was a fall wedding.

Black and white.  Elegant.  Classy. 

Her’s, was the following spring.

Floral.  Purple and pink.  Gorgeous.  Romantic. 

 

Our dresses were completely different. 

She fit straight from the rack and looked beautiful.

Mine had a long detachable train. 

 

We were each other’s maid of honor. 

Without question.

 

We were at each other’s showers.

We each hosted a shower for the other.

We each hosted the ‘Buck ‘n Doe’ event for one another.

We were a part of each other’s day in every way. 

 

My day ended wrong. 

Drunken behaviour ruined a beautiful day.

I was devastated.

 

I left for my honeymoon broken hearted.

I saw her face as I left the house. 

She felt sorry for me.

 

By the time I returned, the situation had become a legal one.

We had to go to court.

 

I became completely self-absorbed in self-pity.

I felt so sorry for myself. 

‘Why did this have to happen to me?’ 

I was self-righteous.

‘How could anyone ruin MY wedding day?’

I was judgemental.

I spoke angrily, I lectured, and I alienated people. 

 

Meanwhile, she was planning her wedding.

I was not emotionally available for her.

I was dealing with the worst thing that had ever happened to me.

 

She never told me to ‘get over it’.

She never even thought I was being selfish. 

She genuinely felt sorry for me and allowed me all the time I needed to ‘get over it’ myself.

She made no judgement.  She had no expectation of me. 

She was absolutely selfless. 

 

I never apologized to her. 

I never thanked her. 

Not once. 

 

Her day was perfect from start to finish.

She was so beautiful and happy.

She was thankful to me for all I had done for her. 

Thankful to me.