Forget the groom...I got the best man!

This is in the back yard of the house we(Michael and I)bought together. It was and remains one of those rare perfect days. It was 76 and sunny with a breeze blowing through the tents. We were surrounded by everyone we loved.
I was no different than any other girl growing up picturing a perfect wedding to my Prince Charming...oh, no, wait, that really wasn't me. I had thought by the time I was 20 years old that I would never get married. I had no desire for a big wedding and look like a human pile of meringue. I thought taking a man's name was a sign of weakness. I had a bank account started so I could use IVF in order to have a child.
When I was very small I did believe in fairytales, but I learned by the ripe old age of about 13 that real relationships are hard. I had no want to be discarded along with the wedding decorations a few months after the ceremony. What I found out about me was I made a terrible girlfriend and a great girl friend. I was a much better friend than a romantic partner.
I unfortunately lost sight of that a few times with disasterous results. My first marriage being one of them. I got married the first time at 23 years old. I knew nothing and insisted I knew exactly what I was doing. I didn't want all the pomp and circumstance of the "Wedding". I went along to get along and resented it for the next 9 years. Everytime I looked at the pictures all I saw was waste. I promised myself I would not yield again to such nonsense.
Guess what? I had another big wedding. I married the confirmed bachelor. Michael was 41 when we got married so everybody and their brother wanted to see it. It was upsetting to me that I had to dawn the uncomfortable dress and stand in front of people I didn't know reminding myself to unlock my knees. I dreaded the whole thing. Michael was my very best friend so we talked about the wedding and how he wanted it done. My opinion carried little weight because it had been put to me by others, that I had already had a wedding. They were right, I had a wedding from before and I hadn't wanted that one either. What's a nonCinderella girl supposed to do? Well, the wedding was fine. I just kept my focus on Michael. He was the only reason I was there. I nearly ran down the isle to him and I couldn't keep from smiling. All I could think of was I would have walked through glass to get to him. In the end the families got to see us and eat cake. This is a satisfactory end, but I was still miffed that I had to have another big wedding. I talked to Michael about it told him it wasn't worth going out and finding another husband to get what I wanted. I was joking, of coarse, but he knew what I meant.
On our first anniversary my husband gave me the wedding of my dreams. Michael wore a suit and I wore a simple dress. I carried pink long stem roses as we walked arm and arm down the isle of the church in front of NOONE. The priest performed a simple service and we wrote our own vows. We put the camera on the top of the pew and squeezed in for a single snap shot. After my wedding we went out to our favorite resaurant and had dinner. We walked on the pier after we had finished eating and headed back home to the kids. I wasn't a princess. I was a 38 year old woman promising to love my best friend for the rest of my life. And instead of getting the picture perfect plastic groom from on top of the cake, I got something so much better. It turned out I got the best man.