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.

A few hours of being a princess, but a lifetime to remember. 

It was a windy October morning. Everyone was rushing past, getting ready for the wedding. Being the wallflower that I am, I stood at the background, watching the other bridesmaids fussing over their headdresses. I was the last one to have my makeup done, and I was struggling to wear my snugly fit gown as the wedding coordinator hollered that the photoshoot with the bride was way behind schedule. Just great.