Wedding Day Jitters

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The priest knows what he’s about to say.
He stands confidently with his book, a guide to his words.
He spits a bit when he talks,
Thank God for the veil, it does come in handy after all.
His white robe is distracting me from what he’s saying.
I don’t know when my part comes, what’s the line again? 

My husband-to-be is standing firm.
I can see his nose hairs as he breathes.
He was stubborn about trimming,
Now I have to be subjected to them on my wedding day.
What line are we at?

Oh it’s the part about taking this man to be your husband.
Well, I’m here, nose hairs and all so I must be pretty serious about him.
His hands are sweaty.
He must really love me to be doing this.
I’m hoping he’ll love me even when the stretch marks on my legs will be the first thing he sees when I’m naked.
I’m hoping he won’t lose his temper and strike me, because that could be the last time he uses that hand. 

“I do.”

I promise to love his peeping nose hairs, his sock throwing, his remote hogging, his rug wetting, and his constant out-of-tune singing.
The priest is looking at me and smiling.
Did I just say that out loud?

Where’re almost at the end now, I hope.
My shoes are killing me and this veil is pulling my hair.
The dress is everything I wanted.
My mother is crying. 

I know she’s worried about me and this man she never got to know.
He doesn’t look like he’d be a serial killer,
It’d be so much easier to spot him out in a crowd as not marriage material.

I smile to reassure her that it is fine.
I’ve picked up a few moves from those Jet-Li movies he’s made me watch every Friday night.
So I’ll be sure to pull a Tony Jae move on him anytime he steps out of line.
So don’t worry, Ma. 

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
What? I missed the part where he promises like I did.
He takes my hand and kisses me like he did the first time.
Soft, no tongue, thank God. 

We stand before the crowd.
I can’t see anyone I recognize.
Forgot to put on my glasses.
Everything is a blur.
What time is it? 
It’s over.



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