The colors are accompanied by smiles. Oh! the smiles. Black and white. Green and grey. Wide and Gay. Shy and sly. There’s one on everyone’s face, completely transforming them but also having the unfortunate effect of making everyone look so similar, you’d be forgiven for thinking you had a entered a mannequin shop. Everyone except for Adjoa.
With her small delicate fingers clasped in mine, her face a picture of radiance and perfection, angelic and pure, bequeathing blessings with her smile to everyone who drifts close to us, Adjoa looks different, stunning, my bride.
She’s fucking beautiful. More beautiful than I have ever seen her. I wish could tell her that. On this happiest of days, I want to tell her that but the congrats keep coming in from everywhere all at once and I can barely breathe between successive “Thank yous”.
I’m scared. Its completely at odds with how I should be feeling right now and more than anything, I wish I could ask someone, anyone, if its okay to be scared. Is Adjoa scared too? Even just a little bit? I think I already know the answer to that question. How can she be? This has always been her dream. Getting married to the love of her life surrounded by family and friends with a background of a cascade of waterfalls and green grass covering the grass as far as the eyes can see. She’s ecstatic. Her hugs are that little bit tighter, her smile that little bit wider and I feel as guilty as hell. Guilty that no matter how hard I try I can’t be as happy as she is today. Guilty for thinking about the future instead of living in the present. Guilty that I am even thinking at all.
But I can’t help it. The wedding is almost over. The food would soon be gone and the people as well. Even family members and close friends would have to depart as well and then it would be left with Adjoa and I. Alone. Together. Forever. And that scares the shit out of me!