BRAN
It's her--just her. Nothing else mattered. Only her.
She wanted a simple wedding, but for the first time I opposed. I wanted nothing but grand for her.
I couldn't help but cry while walking down the isle. As I approached the altar, flashbacks came like my life was playing in front of me. Those times I only wished to hold her close to me, those distant what ifs, those doubts, those heart-stopping moments when she'd sleep on my shoulders after crying about her failed scores.
I love her.
I knew it from the moment I saw only her, in a room of many other people. Just her. It's as if the world suddenly lost its focus, blurring everything but her. Only her.
The night before our wedding, I sent her my poems. She laughed over the phone because of how ridiculous it sounds. I'm no match for her. She loves words, chapters, stories-- like it's her alternate reality.
I don't care about anything as long as in any reality I'm with her, just her. Only her.
The church was so silent I could hear my steps, I could count my heartbeats, I could almost hear her breathing from afar ---like we were chained, destined, connected, in ways more than one.
In love.
