I couldn’t have planned it better myself
April 21, 2001it was a beautiful wedding. i know they always say that, but you have to believe me, it really was. she looked like an angel, with the light hitting her face just so. i almost cried — not just then, but several times throughout the day. i don’t remember being this emotional at any wedding, but you know, it was carrie’s.
just when i thought i had survived a wedding without the dreaded question, one of the moms cornered me.
“are you seeing anyone?” she asked.
“no,” i shrugged.
“oh don’t worry, you’ll meet somebody.”
poor girl, her eyes said. always a bridesmaid, but never a bride.
not never, i glared back. just not yet.
after the long day of aisle walking, bouquet dodging, cake eating and tear drying, i got locked out of my parents’ house. woe was me, all dressed up (in periwinkle taffeta, no less) with no place to go. it was almost 10pm.
i ended up at Katy’s house, of all places, waiting for my parents to come pick me up, just like high school. we spent an hour or two, eating popcorn and drinking raspberry lemonade by the fire. it was full-bellied laughter and heart-felt reminiscing. it was what i’d missed most.