|Public post: A wedding story
||[Jul. 10th, 2014|02:23 pm]
Διδαξον με τα δικαιωματα σου
|||||Mendelsohn. Or Purcell. Or something.||]|
Fifteen years ago right now, I was standing in a church in Oakland waiting to get married. I was full of hope and love and the reassurance that this would last forever. After all, we were being married in the same church that my inlaws had been married in, we had the same photographer, my wife's family was so strongly represented, and the same priest who had baptized her was officiating. We had all the right influences. All we needed was the kick in the seat of the pants to get going. (Ok, I was wearing pants. She had on a dress. Oh, wow, what a dress!)
It was without a doubt one of the happiest, most wonderful, most amazing days of my life. I was being united to the best person I had ever met, and the one who has since boiled out of me things of both goodness and horror that I had no idea were there.
We are not done boiling. I ache over all the hurts I have ever caused her. And I rejoice over the love she has shown me.
I cannot imagine ever being with someone else.
I pray that I never have to.