Holly of Nothing but Bonfires on 'Things I Remember About My Wedding':
The number one thing I heard in the weeks leading up to my wedding was how fast the day would fly by. Because I like to be prepared and know what I'm getting into, I made a mental note of this. The day will fly by, I told myself. And then I thought: but wait, how can I stop it from flying by? Which leads me to the number two thing I heard in the weeks leading up to my wedding, which was that I should try---should really, really try---to be present in the moment. Okay, I thought, got it. The day will fly by, but I should try to be present in the moment. I am prepared. I have done my homework. As god is my witness, I will stop this day from flying by!On how it feels different after being married:
Internet, you cannot stop your wedding day from flying by. You cannot even really be present in the moment, actually, because the moment just goes too damn fast. Honestly, it's like someone just presses fast forward on the day: the first half goes at a normal pace and then all of a sudden, it's one o'clock, and you're getting your hair done, and people are milling around you getting excited and then BOOM!, it's like someone slipped you a roofie and you wake up ten hours later and the wedding's over and you can hardly remember a thing.
Before the wedding, I wondered if I would feel different after the wedding. I couldn't imagine feeling different. I mean, I could imagine feeling the SWEET SWEET RELIEF of not having a to-do list a mile long, don't get me wrong, but I couldn't imagine feeling.....well, married. How would that feel? Would it be weird? Would anything change?And some more ceremony scripts to peruse, from 2000 Dollar Budget Wedding.
I asked and you answered. I read through those answers the way you might read through an account of walking on the moon: fascinated but incapable of fully comprehending. The consensus was this: it just feels different. But different how, I wanted to know. Can't put my finger on it, you said. Cemented. Content. Calm. Permanent. Partnered.
Six months in, I want to tell you that it is different. How? Can't put my finger on it. I introduce Sean to someone as "my husband" and I think holy crap, I have a husband. It was a smooth transition---no new home, no new name, thirteen years of knowing each other behind us already---and yet somehow everything changed. Only in the faintest, most imperceptible way, though, like one of those tiny earthquakes that nobody ever feels, the ones that shift the landmass just everso slightly. On the surface everything looks the same. But somewhere, under layers and layers and layers of earth, the world has been altered.