We were to be married in a beautiful Methodist church. Since it was January, most of the Christmas flowers were still in the church and due to the color of the stained glass, the color of the flowers, various shades of pinks and white, coordinated with my chosen colors. We were going to add some other things, but honest to God, I can’t remember what those things were going to be.
We got to the rehearsal and did it. The only thing I remember was someone behind us yelling, “WE CAN’T HEAR YOU! YOU NEED TO SPEAK UP TOMORROW!” I kid you not, that is all I can remember, and I have no idea who it was. I don’t remember how I got to the rehearsal dinner. I don’t remember who I sat with. All I remember is that it was a pizza place, we had the party room and no one ordered me a plain cheese pizza. At the time, the only pizza I would eat was plain cheese and everyone, EVERYONE who knew me, knew that and I was the Bride and no one got me anything that I wanted to eat. I recall leaving, sort-of. I don’t remember where Mark was. I don’t remember saying goodbye to him. To tell the truth, I don’t remember him even being there, even though I know he was. One of my girls took me home after a loooong time of riding around and talking. I don’t remember what we talked about. I’m pretty sure I just downloaded everything I had been through over the last couple of months.
What I do remember is getting home and vomiting. And then vomiting more. And again. And again a few more times. Pretty much all night long. There was no way I was going to be able to get married the next day. I called Mark in the morning and told him I couldn’t do it. He offered to rent a wheelchair for me. Carry me. Have the reverend come over to the house. I didn’t want to do those things. I looked horrible. I felt horrible. The last couple of months had traumatized me, the night before sucked and I was sick. I still wanted to get married. I still loved him, but I was not going to do it like that. Everything about the lead up had sucked and the actual wedding was going to make me happy, not another level of miserable. He was not happy with me. My mother was thrilled and to be honest, although we have never discussed it, I’m pretty sure his parents were only sad that he felt bad. His side called his people. My parents called our people and some people we couldn’t get ahold of. I personally called the friend’s mom who was supposed to provide the food and she said and I quote, ” Oh that’s ok. I don’t even have anything started yet. To be honest, I haven’t even bought the ingredients yet.” My intuition was right about that one. I called my DJ friend. HE said, and I quote, ” Oh that’s ok. I forgot and scheduled another gig for tonight and was trying to figure out how to be in two places at once. This takes a HUGE load off.” Check TWO for my intuition. My mother called the cake people and they said they were loading it into their van right then, what did we want them to do? Mom said deliver it here. So they did. Box after box after box of cake. It took up half the living room. It was freaking delicious. Lesson to be learned? Hire freaking professionals. Had the wedding happened, we would’ve been listening to the radio and eating G-DAMN CAKE because my caterer and DJ would not have shown up!!
A couple of hours after I talked to him, Mark came and picked me up. We went off alone and talked. I told him that I still wanted to get married, but I couldn’t do it like that. After everything that had happened and then being sick, I just couldn’t do it. He said he’d have to think about it. He took my ring and took me home. What had been the worst eight months of my life just culminated in the worst twenty-four hours I had experienced. Ever.