She was getting married today. Strangely enough, it hadn't hit home yet. She seemed to be more afraid than happy. She was glad that he had proposed and that they would be declaring their love and commitment to each other today, but there was a little part of her that nagged at her that they were moving too fast and that what she was feeling wasn't love, but attachment. After Clark had broken her heart she had searched for that same feeling of being dependent on somebody else and them doing the same. He was the only one who had come close. But it still wasn't the same.
She felt as though she were marrying a stranger. Her mother's pressure about marriage had gotten to her. After Clark she had begun to seriously search for a husband. And when he proposed, she was all too happy to accept in order to stop her mother's nagging. She loved the woman, but sometimes her it seemed her mother was trying to live her life for her. And now, it seemed as though her mother was making the choice of a lifetime for her. As if it weren't her marriage, but her mother's. She was certainly more excited than the true bride. But then again, maybe she just had wedding jitters.
Before the proposal, she hadn't even considered him as marriage material. They had only been dating for a short while. Five or six months tops. She had only just introduced him to her parents the week before. Marriage wasn't even on her mind. Besides, she considered him to be her rebound guy. The one after the great one. And yet, as he had stood there, holding his heart on his sleeve, all she could think was, "What will mother say if she finds out that I've turned down a marriage proposal from a perfectly nice guy?". If she turned him down, her mother would be so angry. She had already gotten lectures for letting Clark get away. Like she was the one who had slept with her skimpy suit wearing secretary. She was also getting older, a point her mother never failed to bring up. Although she didn't feel ready for marriage, her age certainly was. Maybe it was the right time to get married. After all, he was a good guy, and she was certain he would treat her well. She would grow to love him in the same way.
It seemed too late to back out now anyway. He had partially proposed because he was leaving for London in three months time. In his words, she was an amazing girl who he couldn't leave behind for fear that someone else would snatch her up. Because of this, they only had two months to plan the wedding and three months for her to shove her whole life into five suitcases, so she could leave everything behind for a boy she liked just enough to marry.
All the guests had taken their seats at the church aisles and her groom stood at the front, a huge smile on his face. As the wedding march began, her father took her hand in his and the two of them began the long walk down the aisle. As she passed each row, guests stood up from the pews. Her aunts from out of state had come and her friends from college. His grandmother had come from halfway around the world, and his brother had taken a break from university to come and see him get married. So many had laid their hopes and dreams upon the pair. So much pressure to get married. Family always wants you to be happy, but only until you get too old. Then it's just about finding somebody. Anybody who will take you at this point.
As she approached the altar, she looked at him. He was smiling widely at her, but she couldn't bear to return his happiness. All she felt was the pressure. This marriage wasn't about happiness, but about convenience. It was convenient to marry him. He would stop her mother's nagging and all the rest of her family member's supportive speeches that casually mentioned how old she was getting. Even as she realized this, she kept walking. She had to do it, if only to be free from all the pressure. It didn't matter that she might not be happy. It only mattered that she would be free.
Her mother was beaming at her from the front row, smiling like it was the happiest day of her life. Something about her smile, though, didn't quite reach her eyes. She looked almost stern. It was like her mother knew about the battle being fought in the back of the bride's mind. She felt as though she was in a theatre production. Her mother was the director, backstage, trying to make very sure that her temperamental actress followed the script to a tee. She wanted to deviate, but knew that she would break too many hearts. So, she continued down the aisle. After all, the show must go on.
