My best friend got married a little over a week ago. Married. Hitched. Tied the knot. Strapped on the ol’ ball and chain. Became someone’s “old lady” (even though she is young and super hot… I hate that phrase). And even though she’s spent the last 10 and a half years loving the same man, living with him, supporting him and growing with him into the amazing, intelligent and successful duo that they have become together, I still can’t quite wrap my brain around the fact that they are actually married.
Keep in mind, basically our entire graduating class from high school is married (I know this because the bride and I are avid Facebook stalkers… wipe that judgemental smirk off your face and stop pretending like you don’t do it). So it should come as no surprise that she, who has been with her man for almost half of her young life, took the plunge into official, legal coupledom.
Anyway… she was beautiful. They both were, actually. You know how you always see in movies how barfy, fake happy characters in love are because they aren’t aware that the Earth is about to explode or aliens are invading or a couple of assholes are crashing their wedding or whatever? This was not the case. I have never seen either of them happier. Seriously, you could cut that elation with a knife. Few things are better than watching people you love in a state of their own genuine, emotional, honest love.
The day went on as I imagine wedding days generally do… hair, makeup, dresses, pictures, ceremony, cocktails, speeches, food, dancing and ecstatic exhaustion, all wrapped up in a Crate and Barrel box filled with laughter and tears, finished with an exquisite ribbon of, you guessed it, love.
There was obviously some debauchery that ensued throughout the evening, but I’ll spare you the sordid details… just kidding… mostly.