Wedding Jinx

So I ordered it. The dress. It felt so... so... forbidden. I know my divorce is not yet final- maybe that's where the 'forbidden' came in- and now I am patiently waiting for it to arrive so I can get shoes, under garments, and jewelry. I don't even have an engagement ring yet, but I've already ordered my wedding dress. Go figure- I have always been bass-ackward.

The first time around (many, many eons ago,) a ring was chosen and bought by Troy & me in anticipation of The Proposal. I knew from our second date that I would marry him, so it was no huge surprise; we became officially engaged at Christmas and The Dress was put in lay-away in January (I thought we would be married in October.) Long story short: his job at the Sheriff's Dept prevented asking for any time off for a year, so we tied the knot in May instead, before he graduated from PTI.

I remember choosing bridesmaids' dresses- then having to re-choose them, since my first choice did not meet with my mother's approval- flowers (few, since money was tight,) tuxes, and gift-registry selections. I remember compromising on the reception location, the menu, and the cake topper (there was nothing I really liked at the Sweete Shoppe, so I ended up with a very generic kid-couple whose hair colors did not match ours.,) but holding firm on my wish for a horse-drawn carriage ride. When The Big Day arrived, I went where I was told to go, wore what I was told to wear, and went through the motions of wedding etiquette, from the first vow (which Pastor Silver refused to let me write- damned backward Baptist!) to the final dance.

Troy complied as well, looking bored and uncomfortable the entire day. A harbinger of things to come. His vows were wooden and perfunctory; our wedding 'kiss' consisted of him grabbing me by the shoulders and kissing me with all the passion he would have shown his mother. Or less. He showed no ardour, no emotion- People were watching. People from his family, his childhood, his work place.

When the time came to leave the reception hall, (I use the term loosly,) we gathered up our gifts and headed to the apartment we had been sharing since March with our best friends in tow. We stayed up until 3 in the morning opening gifts, then promptly fell asleep as soon as Brian & Dorene left. She later told me she & Brian decided then and there that we would not be coming home with them after their reception- then they laughed at how very odd a couple we were.

Married is married, whether a couple stands before a minister in a candle-lit cathedral or is handfasted by a Pagan priestess in a grassy meadow. I had my big, white wedding, and it did not matter a jot in the grand scheme of things. But this time around, I am determined to have exactly what I want, because this time around, this wedding- this marriage- is for me. I want my nails done this time. I want a pedicure. I want my hair done and silk from the skin out. I want to write my own vows, and this time I will allow myself to cry. I want Steve to sing to me, then kiss me with all the passion he shows me on a daily basis.