by Laurie Wagner | Sep 26, 2016 | Blog
“There is a way to write that solidifies story lines–and a way to write that liberates you from them.” – Susan Piver I know it’s cliché to be sad at a wedding, but that’s just what I was; sad, plain ol’ sad. When I mention this to a friend days later, I’m reminded that yeah, weddings are funny like that; they trigger all sorts of stuff. Still, I was surprised. I hadn’t been to a wedding in a while, and when I fell into something I can only call melancholy, I thought it was my own damn fault – some way in which I’d failed in love and was now on the other side of happiness, watching love from my own lone distance. I was glad for the groom – my young cousin – and his bride. They’re good people and they’re primed for every happiness. But standing there on the dry, rocky cliffs of Malibu, overlooking the sea, I found myself fixating on the bride’s face as they stood under the chuppah, and she gazed up at my cousin, a look that seemed to say, “I’m yours, I’ll follow you everywhere, your breath is my breath.” I was alternately worried for her and envious. Worried because marriage is a brave and bold journey – a complex web of expectation and disappointment – a real ego buster – and everyone who’s ever been in a relationship of any length will tell you that. It takes more patience and more faith than most of us can imagine. We say “for better or for worse,” but better is always more fun...
