Thirty-Two Days Later

I've been married just over a month now. A month and one day. Thirty-two days.

I'd like to say my wedding day was stress free. Totally was not. To start off, all my bridesmaids were late getting to the house for prep. Even the one who fucking lives in the house was late because the Target run was apparently necessary.

It was a weird day. I don't know how else to say it. I had my hairdresser, who I've known since I was eight there, doing everyone's hair. This girl Caitlin, who I met through her sister, was there doing makeup. My best friend from college was there, my sister, my friend Jess, Omar's sister, my parents, my great-aunt. We had curlers, hair spray, and makeup everywhere. My poor, poor dad. I think he washed the driveway twelve times that day.

Plus, I was nervous. And I totally didn't think I would be. I'm twenty-eight. I've been dating Omar for over seven years. Realistically, there was no reason to be nervous. We've talked very seriously about marriage over the years, what it would mean for our relationship, how many kids we wanted, etc. It's not like these were big mysteries or anything. But my stomach was totally in knots.

My friends helped me into my dress just before my photographer arrived, while my hair was still in curlers. They laced me into my dress so damn tight I still had marks on my ribs the next day. It was that tight, but it stayed up and I didn't have to tug on it. The worst thing about strapless anything is the tugging, but this dress stayed up. Very well, actually.

And, if I say so myself, I looked beautiful.

I wore my hair down, with a tiara and a veil. Of course it was so fucking HOT that day, that the curls were gone by the time we left the church.

While we were taking photographs, my bouquet broke. The flowers literally fell off the stems. My photographer duct-taped them back on. Apparently, the look on my face was pretty priceless. But it was very upsetting to me at the time and I felt fretful. But that was pretty much nerves, too. By the time we got in the limo, my pulse was racing. We red-cupped it with some cheap wine on the way to the church, even my dad had a chug or two.

When we got to the church, I could barely hear anything the roaring in my ears was so loud. I felt jittery and out of place and I could not believe I was getting married. I kept thinking, I'm getting married. I'm getting married. I am getting married. In that church, Omar was waiting for me and we were going to get married. It seemed very unreal.

That's really the whole theme of that day. Surreality. It was the most surreal day I've ever had. But it was also the most beautiful.

When we got to the church, I felt terrified, nervous, and so excited I wanted to pee. The bridal march started, I started down the aisle, and started sobbing. Sobbing. I remember telling my father, "Daddy, walk slower. I need a minute."

I wish I could say I remember the ceremony, but I don't. I remember the priest telling me to stop crying, I remember our friends from college doing the readings, I remember my sister taking my bouquet from me. I remember saying my vows, my voice shaking, and putting the ring on Omar's finger.

It was so unbelievably warm that day, probably in the high eighties. And there was no air in the church. It took us both a couple tries to get the rings on because the heat had swelled our fingers. But the rings were on and suddenly we were going through with the rest of the Mass and then Omar was told to kiss me. We were smooching, we walking down the aisle, my dad high fived me and we were in the limo and I was married. To Omar. And suddenly, I felt giddy. I felt so giddy and crazed. We talked all the way to the reception about the day we'd just spent apart. Like he'd been at work or I had spent the day with a friend. It was so normal. Except that I was wearing a dress that felt like it weighed twenty pounds and he was in a tux and we were drinking champagne in the back of a limo.

We laughed, we talked, we even smooched some more. And suddenly all the nerves from earlier felt ridiculous.

Because we were married. And it was perfect.