How Cliché to Say My Wedding Day Was My Happiest Day

I was trying my hardest to stifle tears in the car ride to the Jewel Box, a greenhouse created for the World’s Fair that had become a St. Louis attraction. My twenty-something sister had thrown a tantrum, as was her way. She was my bridesmaid, but she was the bridezilla. She had made us a half an hour late to my wedding. All the guests were there before I was. We missed the planned photography. I didn’t want to have red, puffy eyes going into my wedding, but I couldn’t help it, I began sobbing.

Tears turned to laughs when I finally arrived thanks to family

The ceremony itself was hard to endure. The nervousness. The awareness of being in front of others. The lack of preparedness from being late. But, when it was over. The hugs. The relief. The photographs that captured what a beautiful day it was. The community of loved ones celebrating with us. Perfect.

Chances are I have a migraine. My spirit guides are Voltaire & Bierce. Considering making SJW into a religion. Genealogist

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