The Wedding Pooper

Two days before my wedding.

The wedding that i have Nick and I will be exchanging our vows, to live together forever through thick and thin. The wedding that I have been waiting for since I was a teenager. The wedding that I have dreamed of when I fell in love.

It's the day that I will finally be legally his, the day that I will be called Mrs. Smith. The day where all of my family members will come. My mother, father, both of my brothers, grand parents from both sides, co-workers, old friends, first cousin, second cousin — hell, everyone I know on this planet. It's also the day Nick's side will be, where they will watch us enter another chapter in life and congratulate us. It's the day where I'll be one step closer to happily ever after.

Two fucking days before my wedding.

I've been preparing for this wedding for two or three months, I don't fucking know. I've been through stress planning the wedding. Like looking for where I shall get married, who are my bridesmaid, where the reception is, what my wedding gown will be, and what the fucking color scheme will be – which is red and gold. I went to so much stores just to help what the bridesmaid shall wear and that it fitted everyones budget.

I had to think what my token will be to give after the wedding. I had to contact designers for my invitation and the venue for my reception.

Two mother fucking days before my wedding.

I had to taste so much cake, drinks, pastas and everything just so everything could be perfect and none of my fucking savings would be wasted.

I also had to work out just to fucking look bomb in my wedding gown on the wedding day itself.

Not next month, not next week, but two mother fucking god damn days before my wedding.

Yet here I am at a bar, at 3am, alone with no one with me, a god damn wreck from crying and getting myself drunk.

After everything, Is this wedding really worth it?