A Beautiful Wedding

The day couldn’t have gone better. Sure, our officiant momentarily gave us a scare by asking us to deliver our personal vows when we had chosen to stick to the traditional lines, and the DJ largely failed at their job, but everything else went off without a hitch.

I admit being overwhelmed by the size of it all. Having so many people there to celebrate us, and so many being your distant relatives I had met only a handful of times if I had met them at all. I was a bit saddened to see my family only make up a table and a half – but hey. The people who cared were there, and I had a new family now.

Like in everything else, I remember the music. Waiting to walk down the aisle as Elbow’s “One Day Like This” finished, then making that walk to Sigur Ros’s “Hoppipolla.” We walked away to Bright Eyes’ “First Day of My Life” and had our first dance to Spiritualized’s “Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space.” We were both a bit annoyed when the DJ played the wrong version of “Chicago”; Sufjan Stevens’ Illinois had been one of the first things I shared with you, and we wanted it there. We danced alone to “Say Something Loving” by The xx, a song we only really requested for ourselves anyway. The night ended on “Into My Arms” by Nick Cave, a quiet song of devotion. None of these are the traditional choices, but we were never traditional people.

Of course, this isn’t the story we share. No, we hone in on the funny bits, and you actually stole the show on the drive back. For whatever reason, you decided to learn what your boutonniere tasted like. You took a small bite which no one else would have noticed if you didn’t soon complain of a tingling feeling in your mouth.

You poisoned yourself on our wedding night, because of course that would happen.

We got back to the hotel and you shoveled ice cream down your throat after learning milk would soften the sting. There was nothing particularly sexy about that night, but we had grown to accept the fact our relationship was never really about sex. At that time, we were convinced I was somewhere on the asexual spectrum. We both seemed happier to just visit with friends; due to the fact we met in college, most of our friends had moved away and it was nice to just get to see them in person for a brief moment.

I’m sorry this is never the story we’re actually going to tell. Later events shroud this in doubt, and we’re both likely to never mention it again after the wounds heal.

Because I was happy that day. There were doubts, but I stuck around because I truly believed we would figure it out. I always wanted to believe in us.

I loved you.