(The second half of the prologue)
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The video on the side just made me laugh my panties off, I was searching for a beautiful video to go along with the whole...well...you'll see 'theme' of this short exert and uh, it's safe to say that this is not where this story is going...although.
Marriage isn’t always perfect; I understand that, I know that for a fact, my marriage is nowhere near perfect.
Well, I suppose the wedding was perfect, my parents country house, the lake, the swans and the sunset. The dress was perfect, the silk fabric hand stitched by all the females in my family; laced with love and well wishes. The day was perfect; the sun loomed in the sky with a mellow contemplation. Even the parents were perfect, welcoming each other with open arms and dancing the night away.
And of course the Groom was perfect, his hands held tightly behind his back, black tailored suit, not clean shaven; stubble, the way I like him, and his hair slicked back, ‘like Hitler’ I usually tease him. Then I smile to myself, he must have been thinking the same thing because when I look back up he’s all smiles as well, and then my eyes start to well up, and all I see is the blur of his black suit, the orange flower in his top pocket and his green eyes encased in his brown hair.
I guess I must be honest in also confessing that our honeymoon was also perfect, a secluded beach in a secluded bay, staying with an old couple in their B&B hoping that one day we would grow as old and as happy together as they have.
But I suppose perfect is your ideal of perfect, everybody’s perfect is different. Like some peoples perfect marriage is living together for a period of time before committing to marriage, others get drunk or do it spur of the moment, some have theirs arranged for them, others do it for financial or some other gain, and some people like me, do it because it’s the next logical step.
Troy and I have been seeing each other for the past four years, but because of jobs at different times in different places, heavy work schedules and well any other excuse we put forward we have never lived together, never woken up beside each other because one of us always has to leave early; apart from the honeymoon, never cooked for each other, never had to bathroom share with each other, share with each other or even shop together. So though we had known each other for four years, we don’t actually know each other.
YOU ARE READING
Honestly Speaking
General FictionAccording to the big book, God made woman, from the rib of a man. A rib, as in that place in between the heart and the groin of a man. Kinda says it all don’t you think.
