I never really gave much thought as to how or when or where I would get married. I just sort of knew all my life eventually I’d be with some random face in a white dress.
I knew from the sappy romantic comedies my Mom and Lauren always made me watch that I would supposedly feel some strange feeling of awe and wonder and that while everyone looked to my wife, she’d be looking at me, memorizing the way my face looked as I first saw her rounding the corner in white.
However I was nowhere near ready for their sheer and utter terror I felt when it actually happened.
No one told me I would want to strangle the string quartet in the corner who were playing entirely too slow.
No one mentioned that I’d be waiting for all the brides maids and grooms men or whatever they were called to come down the aisle, only so shake my head and realize that I’d spaced out and they already had.
Everyone failed to inform me about how my stomach would be in too many knots to even attempt to eat anything before the ceremony, resulting in spots dancing before my vision as I stood on the altar.
No one told me that my skin would crawl, prickling with all the stairs from every friend and family member I knew and many I didn’t, all looking at m.
And no one, informed me about how my eyes would start to moisten and my heartbeat would start to quicken and my ears would begin to ring when I saw her.
She wasn’t just Destiny Stacey, slash Simpson, slash Clifford anymore. She wasn’t my girlfriend or my fiancé, she was about to be my wife.
I’d seen her look beautiful a lot of times. In fancy dresses at award shows and in her pajamas on a rainy day binge watching Orange is the New Black with me, however never did she look so perfect as she did, walking down the aisle towards me.
Her dress fit perfectly. Fitted at the top, flowy from the waist down, the lace sleeves ending at her wrists. She was wearing high heels, for the first time in her life as far as I knew, and her hair looked like a work of art, a side ponytail of curls cascading over her shoulder. But all of that paled in comparison to her face, not the makeup lightly dusted over it, highlighting the features I had come to love, but the look on it. The look of utter terror, sheer excitement and absolute love.
Michael, who was walking her down the aisle since Mr. Clifford was wheelchair bound seemed blurry next to her, everyone did, all I could see was her, and then she was beside me.
“You look so beautiful.” I whispered.
“Thank you.” She whispered back blushing.
“And I love your hair like that.” I mumbled, as the priest began talking, “And in this light…It brings out the green in your eyes.”
Smiling, she slipped her shaking freezing cold hand into my trembling sweaty one.
I knew I was supposed to be looking at the priest, but I couldn’t, all I could look at was her until I realized he and everyone else for that matter were looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to say my vows.
Taking a shaky breath, I turned to face Destiny completely.
“Destiny.” I said nervously, “I have loved you since we were eighteen. And I want to love you until we’re eighty, or however long we both live.”
Blushing, she looked down.
“I have a heart.” I continued slowly, “And I have a soul, and believe me I will use them both to love you the way to deserve to be loved. You’re about to be my wife, yes, but you’re more than that. You’re a Mom, to my kids, you’re my partner through thick and through thin and most importantly, you’re my best friend. Five years. For five years I have loved you, and needed you and spent darn near every waking moment thinking about you and asking how I ended up with someone as amazing as you because quite honestly, I think I am the luckiest man in the world because I have you, if you’ll have me?”
