The Art of Weddings

My feet are dirty, I’m dehydrated, I have panda eyes from eyeliner mixing with sweat. I am quite content to be this way, for I’ve just gotten to my room after attending a beautiful wedding.

It really was beautiful. From beginning to end, it was something else. I love seeing the look on the man’s face as his bride walks down the aisle. Trying not to cry, recognising that this here is the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with. And doesn’t she look stunning!

The speeches all held power, and the hugs and tears that followed were just as impacting. To see everyone lookin’ fiiiine and out of the work environment is always, always, always refreshing. It brings people out a bit, makes you see them slightly more comfortable or more likely to make a lame joke.

I love weddings. I’ve only been to three in my twenty years of life, but each one has brought something special to the table. The first wedding I went to, I was the maid of honour to my sister. That was one of the best experiences; to be a part of something so big and beautiful. To be right where it all goes down.

One of my favourite things at my sisters wedding was simply holding the bouquet. Smelling the bouquet. Keeping the bouquet. Those flowers smelt like weddings, romance, loveliness. To hold those flowers was to be apart something much bigger.

From the conversation to the dancing, today was awesome. A long, hot day, but not to be traded for anything in the world.

And now, to post this before midnight.

Sarah xx

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