Tara and Neil were married this weekend. There ceremony was performed by the same pastor who baptized Tara and her family. The weather could not have been more perfect, the mood was incredibly joyous, and no couple has ever been lovelier than "the dashing bride and the blushing groom."
I've been simultaneously looking forward to and dreading The Wedding for weeks. Ed and I introduced Tara and Neil to each other, and so I've had the unique privileged of watching a relationship from the very very beginning. I've also been very close to both of them, so watching them marry was very much watching the union of two people I've loved very deeply. For these reasons, I was thrilled to be there.
However, this was also the first time Ed and I were in the same room since we separated. Also, there was going to be quite a few people in attendance whom I've also lost, and seeing them was going to be difficult to varying degrees. And, of course, it was a wedding. For these reasons, I was terrified to be there.
The weekend was, in the end, relatively peaceful. I did not have a psychotic breakdown, though my hands shook so badly throughout the ceremony I was certain I was going to drop my bouquet. Everyone was polite, no matter how distant. and seeing Ed was like getting hit in the chest with a blast of wet concrete, but I made it through. I did not fall apart.
And today, when I got home, I found that the very first bit of paperwork had come in, The process has started. Is the worst, maybe, over?