You REALLY Shouldn’t Get Me Started...

I can’t say who my groom would be, or who I wish it would be...

But his tux would be white with a purple bow tie. The Best Man will wear a gray tux with of course, a purple bow tie. The Bridesmaids, most likely my sisters, would be wearing purple dresses with gray trimming. My mother will wear a full purple dress, almost matching mine. My father’s tux(Yes, I know I’d somehow force him into it) would be black with a purple bow tie.

I’d be married on a private island somewhere off the Mediteranian. I’d arrive in a carriage, walk down the sandy aisle, my father’s arm through mine, while all the guests “ahh” at my white gown, something out of a Fairy Tale. The rows made of marble white benches, with purple ribbons. My groom will be facing the Ordained, itching to turn around to look at me. But he will wait until my personally written song is done, then the ceremony will begin.

I won’t wear any make-up, what a wedding picture, the mascara lines down my face! When the rings are brought, I’ll give a perfect little gasp, the diamonds are more exquisite than he had promised. He’ll look in my eyes, proclaim his love, then I’ll have to control my urge to embrace him. The poem I’ll read to him will set everyone to tears.

The thousand dollar rowboat will sidle up to the island. And all the other girls will fight to catch the perfectly made bouqet of lavendar and purple flowers, that I will throw as my newly made husband will row us two away, to the awaiting cruiseship that marks the beginning of our Honeymoon.

The after party will be thrown, but without me or him. We’ll record our first dance, with the stars beaming from the ledges in the sky, a bottle of champagne next to the camera that sits off to the side, as we get lost in each other’s eyes.