I’ve been blogging for years now but this will be the first time that I’ll write a sad blog. I am a natural happy person. In Strengths Finder 2.0, one of my strengths is positivity but now, I am a negative person, not that I’m declaring I am but just describing myself.
Today, my father and I dated after a long time. We just talked last Sunday for the first time since my wedding day. Today is the second time and I missed his presence in the opposite side of the table. The worst thing a woman in my age and season can feel is that your wedding day is the worst day of your life. A dream that has come to reality which you wish to be a dream again.
I love my husband and if I were to get married again, it will be with the same man. I know he has done his best organizing the wedding but some things just can’t be avoided. I am writing not in defense of whoever but just the contents of my heart.
Maybe I’m the only bride in history who doesn’t want to remember her wedding day. Until now, I am very depressed for the things that happened in the wedding. No, not because of little details like my shoe, et al. I am not a high maintenance girl. People who know me know that for sure. It’s all because of the people I hurt at that time. Though forgiven, my family has not forgotten what happened with the absence of chairs and the missing family friends. I am not a bridezilla who intentionally did all that. God knows I love my family so much. I love my parents but I just didn’t do enough. I have resorted to what Noel and I like for the wedding and not what they like, what the trend entails and not what tradition dictates. I think no one will ever forget the mishaps then especially me, who was denied the privilege of father and daughter dance who was in tears during the reception, who spent the honeymoon thinking of not going back. I wanted then to go to EDSA in my wedding gown and have myself bumped by a car so that I’ll have amnesia and forget. But the thought of my beloved husband crying is unbearable. I love him so much.
Needless to say, I wanna get married again. Most nights, I cry myself to sleep. My husband works so he sleeps earlier than I do then I cry alone but my sobbing gets his ears and he wakes up. I wish I can redo the past eight months, I am willing to endure the pain again so that I’ll have that day again, beautiful, like how we planned it to be. I wish. But even if we get married again, that time of bliss of waiting in the dressing room to see my bridegroom won’t happen again. I love my wedding only because of my husband. I love him so much and all he did for the wedding.
Right now, I am staring at our wedding picture, tissues on the floor, teardrops on my cheeks. I pray that no one will be like me with regards to our wedding. I pray that no one will suffer the same thing. I know I won’t get married again because I’m already with the man I love.
I love my husband and if I were to get married again, it will still be with him. But then again, though my wedding day is like that, I know that each day Noel and I are getting married, as we take an oath to God to love each other that day every day. Just like the song goes, ‘Marry me…today and every day.’