It’s the Big Day!

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Oh my goodness. The big day has arrived. The preparations have been ongoing for years. The proposal was made. Plans forged ahead, plans changed, bumps in the road were hit. But now we’re here. So much money was spent… oh so much money. The suitors were considered, and I’ve chosen one, just one.

The weather is beautiful and my attire carefully chosen. Ripped blue jeans; a divided country. Star-printed leggings underneath, as no matter how divided we are, we all stand for the stars and stripes. A t-shirt depicting a donkey and elephant partying, as it all seems like a shit-show sometimes anyways. I wear a thermal underneath my T as today is likely to be stormy. And lastly, I am accessorized fittingly for the climate of the day.

As I stand at the alter and gaze at my chosen one, I wonder- will he keep his promises? Is he as committed as he declares? Do my expectations set him up for failure?

I say my vows. There will be good times, and there will be bad times. Indeed.

Is he standing here because it was time to choose, and he was simply better than the others? Or is he truly suitable? Am I getting cold feet? Am I sexist for not choosing a woman? No! How can that be? A choice based on sex alone is the premise for sexism.

I’m nervous… he did turn into groomzilla a few times. He said some harsh things. Some unappealing facts came to light. But when it comes down to it, I’ve said mean things, and did I expect to find someone that wears perfection?

I smile. I do believe this one I have chosen will do his best to protect me, will do his best to keep the financials of the great American family healthy. He will put our family first. And really, isn’t that what’s it’s all about?

The officiant asks if anyone objects to this union, and I hold my breath…

 

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