porter_inc (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
porter_inc) wrote2006-10-27 01:46 am
porter_inc) wrote2006-10-27 01:46 am
Entry tags:
bodyandsoul100 prompt: Memories
Title: Wedding Day
Word Count: 702
Rating/Warnings: PG
Author's Notes: Will reminisces about his wedding day.
I remember the day I got married. Sunday, April 4th, 1993. I'd turned 20 the month before, Talia was going to turn 20 in June. We were so young, babies who had no business doing something as adult as getting married. But there was a little one on the way and I was obligated to marry my girlfriend of seven months.
The advice my mother gave me that morning was, "Treasure the good moments because they're what will get you through the bad." I thought it was simple and sweet and that she was ridiculously naive. Still, I loved my mother dearly and promised her I'd take her words to heart. It's funny that now I realize how right she was.
The advice my father gave me? "Don't let her think she's in charge." Charming, I know, but at least he didn't get in some dig about marriage finally making a man of me.
I remember that everything was perfect. The church was beautiful, a sea of shining faces watched me as I stood sweating bullets and waiting for my bride. The only person who was missing was Peter. A few weeks earlier, he'd tried to convince me that I was doing the wrong thing and he'd done something I found unforgivable at the time. I'd torn up his invitation and vowed he would never again be part of my life.
But there I was in my rented tux, dying to loosen the collar, fidgeting like a small child during Sunday mass, and wishing my best friend hadn't betrayed my trust. Even when the music started and the guests stood for the bride, I couldn't focus on Talia right away. I was terrified, and if she hadn't given me a tiny wave of her fingers as she walked toward me, I would have bolted. That little gesture kept me rooted to the spot because no matter how much I didn't want a wife, I didn't want to risk ruining my friendship with Talia. I would never be able to abandon my friend on her special day. Jesus Christ, she was going to be my wife and the mother of my child and the only thing I could think about her was what good friends we were. That's the way I loved her. When I took my vows and promised to be there for her, I was making those promises to a friend and I had every intention of keeping them.
After the ceremony, in the limo ride to the reception hall, Talia asked me if I was happy. I hesitated for a split second before I said yes, and I think that was the first time she knew that what we had together didn't mean the same thing to me that it meant to her. If I could take back that one moment - that fraction of a second - I would. I spent the rest of our marriage trying to prove to her that I loved her and wanted to be with her more than anyone else, but felt as if she never believed me because of that one little pause.
The honeymoon was short but romantic. We spent a long weekend at a bed and breakfast in Vermont having a lot of sex and not doing one minute of the sightseeing we'd planned. When it was over, we returned to Georgia with plans to move into married student housing and finish school. Talia suffered a miscarriage about a month after the wedding. It hit me harder than I thought it would, but then I began to have my doubts that she was ever pregnant at all. To this day, I don't know for sure if she lied so I would marry her.
Our divorce was finalized on June 27th, 2005, and, just like that, a door closed on 12 years of my life. I can't regret getting married, but I do regret the way things ended. Talia's getting remarried next month and I've been invited to the wedding. I hope that the celebration can present an opportunity for us to get rid of the animosity between us. My wife is gone, but I would love to get my friend back.
Word Count: 702
Rating/Warnings: PG
Author's Notes: Will reminisces about his wedding day.
I remember the day I got married. Sunday, April 4th, 1993. I'd turned 20 the month before, Talia was going to turn 20 in June. We were so young, babies who had no business doing something as adult as getting married. But there was a little one on the way and I was obligated to marry my girlfriend of seven months.
The advice my mother gave me that morning was, "Treasure the good moments because they're what will get you through the bad." I thought it was simple and sweet and that she was ridiculously naive. Still, I loved my mother dearly and promised her I'd take her words to heart. It's funny that now I realize how right she was.
The advice my father gave me? "Don't let her think she's in charge." Charming, I know, but at least he didn't get in some dig about marriage finally making a man of me.
I remember that everything was perfect. The church was beautiful, a sea of shining faces watched me as I stood sweating bullets and waiting for my bride. The only person who was missing was Peter. A few weeks earlier, he'd tried to convince me that I was doing the wrong thing and he'd done something I found unforgivable at the time. I'd torn up his invitation and vowed he would never again be part of my life.
But there I was in my rented tux, dying to loosen the collar, fidgeting like a small child during Sunday mass, and wishing my best friend hadn't betrayed my trust. Even when the music started and the guests stood for the bride, I couldn't focus on Talia right away. I was terrified, and if she hadn't given me a tiny wave of her fingers as she walked toward me, I would have bolted. That little gesture kept me rooted to the spot because no matter how much I didn't want a wife, I didn't want to risk ruining my friendship with Talia. I would never be able to abandon my friend on her special day. Jesus Christ, she was going to be my wife and the mother of my child and the only thing I could think about her was what good friends we were. That's the way I loved her. When I took my vows and promised to be there for her, I was making those promises to a friend and I had every intention of keeping them.
After the ceremony, in the limo ride to the reception hall, Talia asked me if I was happy. I hesitated for a split second before I said yes, and I think that was the first time she knew that what we had together didn't mean the same thing to me that it meant to her. If I could take back that one moment - that fraction of a second - I would. I spent the rest of our marriage trying to prove to her that I loved her and wanted to be with her more than anyone else, but felt as if she never believed me because of that one little pause.
The honeymoon was short but romantic. We spent a long weekend at a bed and breakfast in Vermont having a lot of sex and not doing one minute of the sightseeing we'd planned. When it was over, we returned to Georgia with plans to move into married student housing and finish school. Talia suffered a miscarriage about a month after the wedding. It hit me harder than I thought it would, but then I began to have my doubts that she was ever pregnant at all. To this day, I don't know for sure if she lied so I would marry her.
Our divorce was finalized on June 27th, 2005, and, just like that, a door closed on 12 years of my life. I can't regret getting married, but I do regret the way things ended. Talia's getting remarried next month and I've been invited to the wedding. I hope that the celebration can present an opportunity for us to get rid of the animosity between us. My wife is gone, but I would love to get my friend back.