Down the Aisle

I often wonder what life would have been like. If it’s possible to even conceive it without you, or to imagine any other universe, any other thread of reality where we didn’t make sense. The same answer dances throughout my mind like a flowing dress in a field full of flowers. No. It could never make sense, you and I apart, because what would life be then? The faint memories of feint love linger not as wounds but as lessons on what love could never be. Remnant cuts from failed attempts scar my soul, and yet, they brought me to you. I could not be more thankful for those mistakes. You gave me purpose, you gave me peace, you showed me love that may forever keep.

Even through the chilly midday March breeze, sweat runs down my back. There has never been a doubt in my mind that anything other than a ‘yes’ would be spoken today, but I’m still nervous. Nervousness is good, it reminds the soul that you're still alive, that there are still things to live for. My watch reads 2:59, one minute.

“All Rise”, the final words I hear before I turn to see my heart, my life, standing at the other end of the aisle. I’ve been told by many leading up to this point that the wedding is the beginning of the rest of your life, a new chapter to embark on, but I disagree. I’ve known her for forever. The subtle voice in the back of my mind reminding me to keep going when I wanted to quit. The warmth of a blanket around me on a cold night. She waited so patiently to appear, waiting for me to cultivate into the man I am today.

My two best men stand in front of me, an anxious look on their faces, knowing there was nothing to be said at this moment to quell any nerves I so poorly hide on my own. I know what’s behind me, and I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I can see my own surety in their eyes. With a nod to one another they each place a hand on my shoulder to let me know the moment is here. My stomach feels like a washing machine with a brick inside, bouncing so powerfully in cadence with my heartbeat that I might fall over.

I return a smile to them both and turn, keeping my head down and taking one last moment for myself. The two seconds feels like two decades. I see my life as it was then, as it is now, and as it will be. The early morning reading sessions in our home library, the wrinkled skin and gray hair. We all want to grow old with the person we love but no one talks about why, why it’s what we all crave and seek to achieve. It’s because of every day in between. The stressful days of being new parents, of hospital visits, and figuring things out day by day. The happy days of having a child, getting the job, selling the book, or Christmas mornings. They all mean something, memories and lessons both, they are the means to the end. We all chase the growing old together for the lives we lived getting there, to reminisce and drift through the days spent together.

I lift my head.

My angel in white, arms locked with her mother as they slowly step toward me. There is nothing on this Earth or any other that compares to what I see now. Out of every synonym for the word beautiful, none deliver the correct feeling. In fact, all the words I could ever think of can’t compare. She is everything, all at once.

Welcome tears flow. I don’t try to stop them. I don’t think I could if I wanted to.

My watch still reads 2:59. Time has delivered its blessing in making this minute last a millennia, a gift often only received once in a lifetime if at all. This could last forever; I wish it did. My body and brain can’t decide on which demand to levy against time. To grow old, to live in the moment, or to enjoy everyday as they come knowing tomorrow is never promised. Yet the one thing they both agree on is knowing that there is no universe, timeline, or reality where I don’t find her and she doesn’t find me.

She stands before me and watches as her mother kisses me on the cheek and passes her daughter's hands to mine.

My watch reads 3:00 pm. My whole life waits in her eyes and the other half of my soul just walked down that aisle.