Can someone please explain to me how it’s possible to feel underdressed for an at-home wedding?
Especially when you’re the one getting married.
Never mind that I chose this dress.
Never mind that this dress is more that I'd ever hoped to wear at my own wedding.
It seems a bit wild and abstract, doesn't it? Being the one getting married rather than just watching other people say "I do".
Time was at a standstill. In my bedroom located within my groom-to-be’s house, I sat in stillness, dressed up in my wedding dress, my silver strappy heels that were too high and but were to my surprise very comfortable, and a veil that cascaded down the length of my back and swept across the floor. Despite spending hours to straightening my hair and applying make, I felt no better than a ragged, ravaged hag. If you asked me, I didn't look like a real bride. I looked like a hag pretending to be a bride - and failing miserably.
I knew the cynicism was strong in me. I never thought this day would happen for me, even if it is at simple wedding in the living room of a townhome. The girl who never believed she would ever get married, surprise surprise, was getting married.
Me. Getting married.
But more importantly, I was getting married to him.
I scoffed, shaking my head. The room was quiet but I could hear blood rushing through my veins. What was my life right now?
If my groom (wow, those words feel weird to me) were here, he'd tell me to stop looking at myself like I was so sort of lace-and-taffeta monster. He'd put his hands on my shoulders, blue eyes looking staring deeply into mine, and assure me that I looked beautiful, that I was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. Tears would be shed, and then he'd dab away said tears with a well-placed handkerchief. I know he'd look amazing in his tuxedo, though now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever seen him in a formal clothing before, hoping that I'd get to see it again sometime. Mesmerized by the sparkle of his irises, I'd continue to wonder how on earth we came to this point.
Today was the day for changes.
Cam - Cameron Hawthorne. My best friend for what feels like forever. The only person in the world I trusted with all my little secret, the man who never fails to make me feel safe, would become my husband in less than an hour's time.
I still couldn't wrap my head around that.
How did I get here? I didn't know. Marrying one's best friend is the goal for marriage, right? That's what all the merchandise, the wedding invitations, the reality television shows, the self-help books, and the personal wedding vows seem to indicate. If all that is to be believed, then I should have been thrilled. But I was anything but. I wasn't miserable - if there was anyone I would want to share my life with, it would be Cam, hands down. He would do right by me, he would never hurt me, and he would do everything to be the husband I deserved.
That's all anyone could ever hope for in a partner, right? I thought so. And yet, as I placed a hand on my chest, I couldn't help but feel terrible. I wanted to do right by him, too. I wanted to be a good wife, partner, and the one person in the world he could count on. I've admired him for so long and if he wasn't in my life...well, I don't want to think about where I would be.
I was just worried. Were we doing the right thing? Was this happening all too fast? Did we really have to do this?
Will I end up being a burden to him? Will I bring him down when I want to lift him up? Will he get tired of me somewhere down the line?
Will I end up losing the one person I've ever truly -
The knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. My breath hitched. It was him. He didn't have to call for me. I knew. I took several deep breaths and willed myself to be calm. I nodded to the woman in the mirror, who tried to look hopeful for the events that were to come.
“Nicola…can I come in? Are you decent?” I could hear the smile in Cam's voice.
"Decent?" It was a struggle, hiding the sadness in my voice. So many fears and regrets ran laps through my head. "Never. But I am ready."
Time slowed to a crawl. I stood up as the doorknob turn, the ebony hairs of Cam's head passing through the doorway.
This was it. There was no turning back now.
And as Cam's eyes widened at the sight of me in my wedding dress, I prayed that somehow, Cam would never come to regret marrying a woman he doesn't truly love.
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