You know how everything in this life is temporary? Well, that sucks. If ‘forever’ doesn’t exist, why does the word?
Like I said, I’m not a huge movie fan. I enjoy watching them, but these days I can hardly find time to breath. So when I watch a movie and can’t stop thinking about it, I wanna recommend it to y’all. Sylvie’s love. That is the kind of love story I want to experience. Of course, life is unexpected and hardships are part of it, but at the end everything falls in its place: after the good and the bad, after the years of separation they find their happy ending. And I want mine.
NYC was definitely a place of happy beginnings.
It was the best place to do my wedding shopping, too. The dress had to be simple and sand color. Not white, not off white, not ivory. Sand. And I found just the right one in Soho. The shoes had to match the dress, and I found the perfect pair on the 5th Avenue. The rings had to be truly special, and The Diamond District was where we got them.
The chef was working long hours, of course, but the city kept me excited and the planning of our wedding kept me busy. It took me weeks to choose our invitations. We were planning to go back South to get married, so they had to reflect my love for the ocean. They had to be not too childish nor too business like. The color was also important. The end result was very ‘me’.
Details like that kept me occupied. In my eyes, I was the best wedding planner.
Alas, after the highs, came the lows. Our new apartment witnessed so many screaming matches I was too embarrassed to look our neighbor in the eye. Our fights would get so bad I’d run away from home and wander the streets late at night with tears on my face.
In the middle of one fight the chef lit up all the wedding invitations on fire. Can you believe that?.. I ordered a new batch. The wedding ring that I kept in its box and admired every other day disappeared. I found out it was pawned and got it back. The chef got fired from his restaurant and our life in the city was due to end.
We were going back to HHI and I was pleased. The wedding on the beach was the wedding of my dreams and I found having to take more than one subway to reach the closest beach on Coney Island a real drag.
And so a year later we set off back South to get married. ‘But how about the fights? How about destruction and abuse?’ – you ask. Well, I told you, I was a master of closing my eyes and not seeing what I didn’t want to see. I remained the believer in the happy beginnings and happy endings.