Some lives don’t actually have a best day, that particular kind of day that sets a heart’s compass to true, forever. But I’ve been lucky, and know mine exactly: it was the day I was finally forced to marry my brother.
It seemed like we’d been waiting absolutely forever. And while the setting might’ve been far from anyone’s first choice, the decorations were perfect, the music we’d settled on seemed to please everybody, and the room seemed packed full – everyone was so genuine, so real – despite the modest number of attendees.
–Okay, and there was an open bar, too, but who wouldn’t want to be a little naughty when you had the legal permit to basically shoot the moon anywhere in City Hall. (Jail included! Ahem..)
We have a wedding video, of course, but I never end up watching it unless I’m showing it to someone else. I just remember it so much better from where I was, … all of the dimension – the scents, the quality of the lighting, all the laughing and dancing, the sympathetic judge actually setting off small fireworks indoors (his bailiff laughing alongside), it was amazing. It wouldn’t – couldn’t! – have been as wonderful if it hadn’t been so weird. I knew I was living the best time of my life, and that’s enough.
My name is Alia, and I’ll try tell it like it was. —I miss you so much, baby. Shit, I’m already crying.
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