I sat there the entire night trying to write my vows. Words came and went, but nothing ever felt right. Earlier, before he laid down to go to sleep, I asked if it'd be alright if I sang what exactly I wanted to say to him.
He said he'd expect nothing less from me- but yet I still heard the displeased tone in his voice. It always bothered him when I wasn't completely traditional, but that just wasn't me. And so I pretended not to notice just as he pretended to love me through it.
By that morning I'd wrote exactly what I'd been trying to say, found all of the right words with the exact feeling that I wanted to convey on this day. And as I was dressed from head to toe in a gorgeous white dress by my closest friends, I went over each lyric again and again in my head, tears already gathering at the corners of my eyes.
And as I sang at my own wedding, I made sure to keep my eyes on the man that I was pledging my heart to, even if the words escaping from my lips weren't written for him, even if in his eyes I could see that he wasn't impressed. It was something that he could never know. Years from now even, no one was to ever know.
How could I ever look anyone in the eyes and tell them that the words only came early that morning when I finally admitted to myself what I'd been keeping away from everyone? How could I ever say aloud that the song was only written because I let myself believe that one day I would tell her that the words were for her? That I saw the look of hurt on her face even as she smiled and stood there as my maid of honor?
Now that the song was written, of course, no one could ever know.
