Love drunk gazes and Sappy promises

Normally when I imagine being in a chapel like this, in some fancy outfit, with people, I don’t exactly feel excited. Or happy. Or anything positive really. Not until right now. I guess this day is a lot of firsts. A reframing of some of the things I’d grown to dislike.

For one, I got to pick my formalwear! Normally when there’s some big once in a lifetime event, my mom forced me into whatever new stiff, boring, suit she could find. Well not today mother! This suit is specially made. And it’s made for me. No tight pants, or itchy fabric, or boring all black. This is in a color I enjoy, and there’s something actually going on! Not that I’m one for high fashion or bright fun patterns, just give me something. Also the fit isn’t stuffy, I can breath! And the fabric is so comfy I want to sleep in it.

Also the priest for this one is supper nice. He didn’t take one look at me and immediately start spouting off about hate the sin, love the sinner stuff. He was nice. He gave a quick blessing, wished me luck and we continued on our planning. And he makes jokes. God I’ve never seen that in a priest before!

I shifted nervously on my feet, feeling the eyes of the crowd on me. That’s the part I still couldn’t really enjoy: crowds. Not that it’s a big one, it’s almost entirely people I know, it’s still a crowd. It’s fine tho, it’s perfect. It’s just a tiny part of such a big moment.

My brother stands behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder and giving a small squeeze, as if to say “you’ll do great” or “I’m right here” I’m glad he’s here for a moment like this. His support is always nice.

Then the music starts. Everyone is facing the entrance as people begin to enter. One by one girls in fancy gowns with flowers walk in, standing to one side of the altar and then she enters.

Annie is as gorgeous as ever, the widest smile on her face as she enters. This is the woman who reframed everything for me. Who took a broken man and made him whole, she saw my damage and my scars and she drew stars on them. She made everything I hated enjoyable.

She reached the front of the aisle, her white dress and veil obscuring her face, making her no less beautiful yet I’m still so excited to see her clearly, as her at her shakes my hand and I turn to face her.

I gently lift the veil, getting a good look at her. Her brown watercolor eyes stare right back at me, with the brightest toothy grin. I don’t think anyone’s look this good smiling that lovestruck. It’s all so sappy, but I love it.

The priest begins the speech, and this is the moment in weddings where I begin to zone out, mostly just there to see the couple kiss and be on my way. Not this wedding. I’m focused on my Annie’s eyes as I listen, listen to someone talk about a love I never thought I would have. And it’s all ours.

Annie squeezes my hands, her grip almost comically tight as always, she likes seeing how tight she can squeeze me before I react in any way. I just look amused.

Father Joseph turned to me. “Thomas, would you like to start of our vows?” I gave him a nervous nod. Annie squeezed my hands again, this time as a form of reassurance. I’ve never been good with public speaking. Or spilling my guts out all poetically. I look into her eyes, I focus on her not the onlookers filling the chapel. Just my Annie.

“Annie… I want to start with thank you. Thank you for marrying me. Thank you for taking my hand and for holding and squeezing it as tight as you can, for guiding it through woods and desserts, through pain and new experiences, through memories I will forever hold. Thank you for seeing my face and not running away scared. For not taking my stoicalness, my silence, and moving on. Thank you for seeing my layers, for seeing my faces, my moments, my moods, and for loving me through all of them. Thank you for saving me.” And now I’m about to cry. That’s fun.

Annie also looks like she’s nearing waterworks. It’s cute. “Tom, Tommie-bear, my dearest onion, my big strong teddy, my groom, I want you to know that when I look into your eyes I see so much more than the stoic man who never talked to anyone. Who sat in the corners and never smiled. I see the man who laughed at cheesy romcoms with me, and painted a house with me, who hiked a mountain, graduated college, and planned this wedding with me. I see the man who called my attempts at courting incredibly cheesy with the fondest smile, who listened to me rant about jewels and their meanings and remembered enough to pick out my favorite for my wedding ring. And who spent weeks digging around storage with my mom to find my grandmam’s old ring to propose with, despite never once being a fan of traditions or legacies, because you knew I loved that ring. I see the man who bought my dad his favorite chocolates and then awkwardly squirmed when he accused you of trying to bribe him the day he asked for his blessing. I’ll have you know my dad was ready to give it for years. I’m so excited to find what more I’ll see in those eyes, Thomas, what more layers my dearest onion will gain and will peel. You said you never understood my love for eye contact. Just know this is why. I get to see into the windows of your soul, and I cannot be more in love with the view.”

And then we did the I do’s, the priest announced his power and said “you may kiss the bride” and that’s all I needed.