I woke up bright and early. My mom came into my room to do my hair into a braid. The same braids she did for me when I went on my first date with him many years ago. I miss having my mom to do this for me, somehow it always warmed my heart. I’m just glad that I have her with me today, to go through it all. Today is the day. A relationship of five years with this man, today he’s getting married. I am not.

I looked into the mirror and tried to look happy. I try putting on a genuine smile which I probably have to use later. I then picked a white dress from my closet and put it in front of me, spinning around in my room while humming a happy tune. Should I wear this today? I would totally look like a kickass, awesome, stunningly beautiful bride in this. And I know he thinks I look beautiful in this.. I put a holt on my thoughts, and place it back. I picked out another dress, while my smile fades.

The weather is great today. I hoped it would rain. But it didn’t. I reached the church later that morning, and saw him standing outside receiving the guests. He was looking bright and suave in his tuxedo, and I wondered if that was the one I bought him. My eyes glanced over to the stalk of rose in his chest pocket, and I shun away from those thoughts. He walks over.

“Hey, I’m so glad that you could make it.”

“Hey yeah, of course I would make time for this, congratulations!” I try my best to say without sounding hypocritical. I flash my rehearsed smile. But I’m pretty sure I sounded bitter, and my smile, broken. He smiles and walks to the other guests. I felt a muscle in my arm move – almost reaching out to grab him. Feelings of nostalgia and melancholy, just from speaking to him.

I walked around the church and saw that it was filled with bouquets of Baby Breaths. The baby breaths that I love. My favourite flower. Our flower. I remember him getting me a bouquet of baby breaths on our anniversary. I choke up a little. Part of me wishes that he was trying to tell me something, something like he still misses me. I was wishing that he would still try to salvage our relationship. But I should know better, that isn’t true. He has her now.

The church bells ring, the guests settle down. The bride enters, they say their vows. He puts the ring on her finger, she on his. They kiss. Everything happened in a flash, it felt like a dream. Or rather, a nightmare. I wonder why I attended the wedding. His wedding.

November 28, 2015 – the day I watched him marry the girl of his dreams.

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