We had already decided to post pone the wedding, we let go of all the dreams, the plan A’s, the plan B’s, the plan C’s. I resolved myself to a future date of wedding bliss and I tried to pretend it didn’t matter. In truth the piece of paper that says we are married, really didn’t matter. I stand by my previous statement in an earlier post that another year without declaring our love into law didn’t negate the fact that we love each other. But I was still missing something. I felt robbed. Robbed of the moment where we took each other’s hands and declared to love each other forever, robbed of calling this man my husband and being his wife. What we were supposed to get on April 25th 2020 was so much more than a piece of paper and I had longed for it for so long. Especially as a girl who felt she was invincible in love, who never needed OR wanted someone. I was an independent lady who found a way to be independently and whole heartedly in love. This man had taught me I could keep flying but still have a home to roost. I was so excited for that moment to declare that I, the girl who would never be tied down, was forever tied to someone else, that’s what April 25th 2020 meant to me. Which leads to…
Monday afternoon April 20th. I was exceedingly feeling defeated. The week prior at work I had learned my manager and glue to our area would be relocated to another position. As a close-knit family this hit me and my fellow coworkers hard and we knew more layoffs were coming. We huddled at the desk trying to make guesses. We worried about our futures in and out of work. I was supposed to work that Saturday, the 25th, the day I was supposed to be married. I warned my coworker working with me that I would be sad mess to work with. Then I started thinking about how I was supposed to have Thursday off, the day that my east coast mom was supposed to get into town and her daughter, (one of my best friends and co maid of honor). We were supposed to go to COSTCO and get the food for our post wedding picnic on Sunday (a day I was also now working). I thought how I was supposed to have Friday off, go get my nails done, the flowers would be arriving for us to create our bouquets and center pieces. Friday night was supposed to be our rehearsal and we were going to be able to thank our family and friends for coming. I had gifts I was so excited to hand out.
I said FUCK IT. SO much was being taken from me, from my fiancé, from our families. I couldn’t get all those little moments back but I wanted to take back that big moment. The I DO moment. I told him that night and he was immediately onboard. The rest of the week we figured out logistics of our elopement. We got our officiant and two witnesses, a time, and a place. We wrote our vows. I waited in line outside of Target wearing my mask to get in and found the perfect white maxi dress to wear. My mom scrounged her jewelry box and found a simple silver band. Because, If I forgot to mention, my wedding dress, although had arrived was sitting unaltered, and my wedding band (and engagement ring) were sitting at the jewelers, held captive by Covid-19.
April 25th, 2020, we got married. In the front yard of my Grandpa Ask’s house out in the valley (Carmel Valley). My mom and one of Sergey’s coworker’s as our witnesses. Mom holding up a phone live streaming to our immediately family who couldn’t attend. His coworker took wedding worthy photos with the iphone. We got ready together at our apartment. I watched a youtube video to figure out how to put a simple braid headband in my hair, carefully applied more makeup than I had worn in months, and slipped into the dress I found at Target. My love put on his suit (minus his tie) and tucked our rings as well as our vows and marriage license into a paperbag with our masks and gloves. Everything was perfect. It was strange, unorthodox, but it was also us. The couple was inseparable from the first date. The couple that got engaged inside their apartment via chalkboard. We are weird and we embarked in mutual weirdness together, under the trees in the front yard of the house my grandpa built by hand, on an early Saturday spring evening.
I take nothing back. I however would be telling a falsehood if I said my mood has been anything but rocky ever since. At times I am insanely happy, I look over at the man in the kitchen doing the dishes and think “That’s MY Husband!” There are also times that I feel like it is a lie. It didn’t really happen. It was such a brief moment in time. Can that really have been it? Is this all there is? After our “I do’s” sure we stayed talking for a minute in the driveway. But there were no hugs, no embraces of congratulations. I still haven’t been able to hug my mom since I’ve been married and its already been a month. There was no big dinner out. We drove home. We made parmesan encrusted pork chops and ate them while watching tv. There wasn’t a honeymoon period. Sure, we tried our best. I wore my “wife” shirts (#marriedAF) I had ordered on Etsy and we spent the next three days in bliss before he went back to work. We walked down to the beach and splurged on a pick-up order from our local Italian restaurant. There wasn’t a return to normal after the honeymoon period, where I got to share my excitement of marriage with my friends and coworkers. I had lost my job the day before we got married. There was no moment I could squeal and hold out my hand to show off my new wedding band. Since we’ve been married all I’ve gotten to see is my husband (Sometimes my mom at a respectable social distance at the park). I love my husband, obviously since we got married, but a girl sometimes needs to share HOW MUCH she loves said husband to her girlfriends. Over wine. NOT over video chat.
I regret nothing. My feelings go up and down like a yo-yo, but If this is the world we live in, there is no other way I would have wanted April 25th to happen. This man who calls me wife is amazing. He’s supportive. He’s silly. He makes quarantine ions easier. If this is the bad I can’t wait till we get to experience the good together. This is just a salute to everyone who is feeling like a yo-yo, it’s ok. This is a strange world we live in and its ok to feel like you are drowning, its equally ok to feel over the moon. Just because the world is chaos doesn’t mean good things aren’t happening in our life. Embrace them. Treasure them. Also, drink wine.
Keep roaming.
♥
Roaming Brotherton 