Saturday, 7 July 2007

Number 1

I started to get dizzy. As the blood ran from my face, a cold burst of panic sparkled in my chest. I was on my way out. Miche was looking right at me and she knew the signs. She gripped my hand a little firmer, smiled gently and winked at me.

"We'll be fine Scott" she said with her eyes, "Just stay with me now. I love you."

Deep breaths then, nice and calm. Keep it together son.

Micheal broke my anxiety when he announced "We're here today to celebrate the joining of Michelle and Scott in holy matrimony."

So the ceremony began, and it was beautiful. The medieval church resonated with the vicar's rich voice. The sun, which had threatened not to shine, blazed through the stained glass windows. Dust of centuries danced right through it.

As Micheal gave his sermon on the nature of God's love we faced each other. I found Miche to be no more beautiful than when she'd left the morning before. Her dress was magnificent for sure, and her hair was set like a goddess, but underneath she was still my Miche. The same woman I knew every beloved inch of.

We could have been in a sewer for all I cared. The promise was what counted. This was our place - four foot square, in which we would give our lives to one and other.

The sermon finished as we knelt before the choir. They sang a Scottish air over our heads in near perfect harmony. Whilst it was an honor to have forty people sing for us, we knew that this pomp was as much for the congregation as it was for us. For our mothers with their tissues, proud fathers in their top hats, for our siblings and friends, the church faithful and their bystanders.

Micheal knew this too. Because for all his holiness he was still a man of the world. When we'd shook hands years before, he saw my lost soul. He heard that it was deaf to the word of his god. Yet he remained warm and kept his counsel as he was a big man, in both stature and gravitas. No stranger to graft, his hands were calloused through engine repair. I felt in this rugged grip an acceptance of my reality.

So throughout his service he would look at me whenever he mentioned god. Knowing that in a way, I was there under false pretenses. My promise however, was solemn and heart felt. No amount of witness, be it divine or otherwise could have added to its conviction. So we let him invoke his god as he so wished.

We used this magic language too, as we found that it gave dramatic effect. Besides, the audience would have been disappointed if they weren't given the full works. So we made our vows in front of angels and fairies, gods and pixies and any other mythical creature that would grace our union.

I cared not, for when we said "I do" and sealed this pledge within our rings, I was in heaven.

The remainder of our day was as steeped in tradition as it was in the church. All the criteria for a good English wedding were checked off. The stately home, champagne, the throwing of hats and background baroque music. It was all there for the benefit of the audience.

When it came to our dance however, we pleased ourselves for the first time that day. I held Michelle close as we danced to "By Starlight" by the Smashing Pumpkins.

Apologies for the awful vid, it was all youtube had. Thanks to Mojoey for the inspiration.

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