We stood at the altar, hands tied together, prying rings onto shaking fingers. We smiled so big I thought we’d break, and with trembling lips we spilled out vows repeated by couples just like us for centuries. We promised ourselves, each to the other, and I hoped to give you the world. And you became something new, now my husband, but you had those same, kind, blue eyes and I knew we’d be okay.
We turned then, vows spoken and chords tied, now one before God and man, and we faced the crowd, all dear, all treasures, who had come to from every corner to smile and wish us well. They smiled their knowing smiles, some with only surface knowledge who chose to love us anyway, others whose arms were still tired from pushing us to the altar. Acquaintances and confidants, mixed in the row. They sang and they cheered, took pictures and gave hugs, and celebrated this tradition of marriage. They circled around us, a wall of protection, fierce with love and happiness. Later we ate cake and gave speeches and I tossed my bouquet, but none of it mattered as much as those there. In their heels and dresses, suits and dance moves, they made our hearts flood with thanks.