A Walk to Remember

It was a windy morning on the fourth day of January. I stood alone in front of the entrance of the church, the large wooden door closed. I was wearing a long white gown, my veil softly swaying as the wind carried the delicate fabric to its gentle wings. All I could hear was the muffled sound of the wedding march on the other side of the door and my own beating heart.

It was the day—the day I'll change my name and become his forever.

As I waited for the door to be opened for me, I remember the first time I met him. It was a January night, the air as cold and windy as it was today, almost exactly the year before. I was with a friend who also happened to be his friend. That first night at the karaoke bar, we became instant friends.

Our story was what you could say a whirlwind relationship: a typical friends-turned-to-lovers story, but our story progressed a heartbeat faster. He was just a close friend, my constant companion to wherever I or he wanted to be, until one day, we both realized we were in love with each other and that we wanted to get married right away.

So here we were: He inside the church, patiently waiting for me to walk down the aisle, and I, steadying my nerves as I clutched my bouquet when the church door was finally opened.

I swept my eyes around the church, the interior dark and blurry as my eyesight adjusted from the glaring sunlight outside. Everything was beautiful: white flowers flanking the aisle, red carpet elegantly placed on the marble floor, the altar glittering in all its golden glory as the sunlight crept from where I was standing. All the people I love were there, their eyes on me as I stood there frozen in place. The world seemed to stop at that very moment, and I took a deep breath.

The sound of soft music filled the church as I took my first step toward the altar. It was Haley Reinheart's slower version of Can't Help Falling in Love, a song that he and I could relate to. Each step I took were slow and deliberate. I wanted to soak in the moment, the walk I've been dreaming of walking ever since I was old enough to know about marriage and falling in love.

Tears were welling up in my eyes as I got closer to the altar. My parents were waiting for me halfway through the aisle. Mama and Papa stood there, their eyes teary but happy, their smiles so sweet, just as how I imagined them smiling the first time they laid eyes on me when I was still a little baby. With shaky hands, I took each of their arms as they escorted me to him.

As we neared the altar, my heart skipped a beat when I saw him for the first time that day: my groom, so handsome in his grey suit, slowly walking toward us, tears streaming from his eyes. I smiled. I've never seen him wearing his heart on his sleeve like that, so emotional and weepy as he took my hand and led me to the altar.

All my life, I've been dreaming of this. But nothing ever prepared me for the happiness I felt that day as I stood next to my groom.

The day turned out just as magical as I imagined it to be. I couldn't remember all the words we've said in our vows. But this I know deep in my heart: I love him, he loves me, and we both know that this is what God has destined for us.

It was the happiest day of my life, the beginning of a lifelong journey, a walk both of us will definitely remember.

My heart fluttered with joy as Jerome slowly opened my veil, seeing my glowing smile for the first time as his wife, and kissed me inside the church for all the world to see.