up until last night, i knew a million things about my wedding.
i could have told you the name of the church and why we chose it, how much we had paid to reserve it and the supreme hassle of confirming the overseas bank transfer to singapore. i could have told you the exact date and time of the wedding, and a funny story about how my sister asked me to please get married in 2007 instead of 2008. i could have told you all the things marlon and i considered -- getting overseas friends and family home in time, where to put them up, and how to tell them. i could even post the save-the-date card that i made myself using photoshop.
i knew figures -- budgets and buffers and guest lists and contingencies. i knew where marlon and i could pull out extra money and where we could save.
i knew exactly what the colors would be, since i had spent a large chunk of one workday afternoon ripping out pantone chips from a book we have at the office. i could also tell you how all four designers i consulted about the wedding outfits absolutely loved the colors, and how i basked in the glow of being the ultimate "different" bride, blazing brilliantly past the trap of trends, consciously eschewing some version of last year's pink and chocolate brown or tiffany blue. i could have posted my color boards and described in detail the process that left me with the perfect color combination.
i could have named everyone on the entourage list and told you what they meant to me and marlon. i could have posted the carefully selected and compiled attire pegs that would give you an idea of what they would look like on the big day.
i could rattle off the names, services, rates, availabilities, pros, cons and general reputations of everyone from the venue rental to the caterer to the priest to the hair and makeup artist by heart. i could say the same of everyone on my shortlist, and why i hadn't yet decided. i knew marlon and i would serve hot chocolate and batangas coffee before dinner, and that my music was not going to come from some cheesy string quartet.
i could show you a flamenco guitarist's email address i had saved in my cell phone, and tell you why brazilian jazz bands are just way too expensive. i could tell you what ceremony songs i had wanted since i was a college freshman, what i would make my friends sing, and even where they would practice and how early in advance.
i knew exactly what i wanted to happen, from the passport-inspired invitation to the gallery of travel photos i would set up with the help of a professional event stylist i had hit it off with. i even knew what people would say, or what i wanted them to say about the wedding: that it was fun, personal, intimate, laid-back, so full of details, so romantic. i knew what all of that would say about me, about marlon and i as a couple, about the fantastic and wonderful life we were sure to lead after the wedding was over.
i knew. i use the past tense because i don't know any of these things anymore for sure.
none of that matters, because now i know the most important thing of all.
i know that marlon loves me, and that i love him.
and that we're starting over. and that our life together doesn't have to be anything that we previously thought it would be.
and really, that's all i need to know.
The great thing about rollercoasters is that you often go for the ride with someone.
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