Butterflies and happiness

I was oddly calm the morning of our wedding.  Sure,  I didn't sleep more than four or five hours the night before despite the sleeping aids I took that night.  We got up (we, meaning the girls in the bridal party) around 7:00 a.m. and headed out for our hair appointments to start at 8:00 a.m.  As I sat there in the salon, watching my sister, my sister-in-law, my cousin, my friends, and my nieces get their hair done, I felt fairly relaxed.  Then it was my turn.  Even then, I wasn't as stressed out as I thought I would be.  Everything was going smoothly as we planned.   I even had enough energy in me to goof off.

 As we headed to the church to get dressed, I started to get them.  The butterflies.  I could barely eat my subway lunch my Dad got all of us, and I kept fretting over all of the things that could go wrong that day:  I could trip up the aisle, I could knock over the unity candle, setting my dress and the whole church on fire, I could drop my bouquet, say the wrong words during the vows...my mind was having a hay day with all possible worse case scenarios.

After the girls got their pictures taken, then came the waiting part and even more nerves.  I just wanted it to start, I wanted to see T.  But I had to stay hidden behind this wall, posting all of the pictures of the clergy for our church.  It was the only place where T couldn't see me, so there I stood in my dress and veil, waiting.  I stood there, knowing very well that T and all of our friends and family were behind that door.  My sister, noticing my pale face and shaking hands, stood there with me, trying to calm me down as I rambled on about the new nuns and the priests at our church.  Why that topic?  No clue.  I think I was just grasping at damn near anything to keep my mind occupied at that point.  Soon, it was my sister's turn to leave, as my Dad took her place.  I grabbed onto his arm like my life depended on it, already feeling the tears forming in my eyes.  I tried blinking them back, so as to not mess up my makeup, as my Dad patted my arm reminding me to breathe.  I could hear the sounds of Canon in D starting to play so I knew it was our cue to exit the back room to stand behind a white curtain placed to hide me until it was our turn.  My heart began to race just a bit.  This was it.  This was really happening.

For over a year now, whenever we went to church, T and I pictured in our heads the moment where we first saw each other that day.  It's honestly my favorite part of a wedding.  I always love to see that first look - the look of amazement and love between the couple as the bride begins to walk down the aisle.  I've always wanted that feeling.

The music started and we got our cue to start down the aisle.  From behind my veil, I could see the people in the church stand and turn our way.  In my heart, I knew everyone I loved and cared about was out there, but I was focused on one thing and one thing only - the look in T's eyes.  The second I locked eyes with him, I couldn't look away.  I saw myself in his eyes, I saw pure happiness and the love that we share.

I'm pretty sure I cried the entire way down that aisle.   I know I cried when my father lifted my veil and kissed me on the forehead, as he has always done since I was a little kid. 

As we recited our vows, I could barely get out a word without tearing up.  I can't describe the feeling I had up there on that altar.  It was pure happiness, bliss, love, and everything I dreamt it would be and more.  On that day, I was joined in marriage with my soul mate, my best friend. 

Sure, things went wrong that day.  I was told they would.  a piece of lip liner fell and stained a spot on my train, I had a small wardrobe malfunction with my straps to my dress before the reception, the limo driver got lost on the way to the reception, but honestly....none of that mattered.  All of those little details paled in comparison to the feeling I know we both felt that day. 

I have been so blessed.   I love you, T!