And I loved our wedding.
Roger loved our wedding.
It was everything I wanted.
It was my dream.
I used my favorite color.
I used my favorite flower.
I used the best vendors.
It was what I wanted.
But some days, I get angry about it.
I planned most of it myself.
Yes, Roger helped a lot more than most but still the majority of the work was put on me.
We did the planning ourselves.
We paid for it ourselves.
It took up a lot of time to plan that one day.
It was a lot of work to plan that one day.
I had to make a lot of decisions.
I had to make a lot of DIY projects.
I had to send a lot of emails.
I had to keep track of a lot of details.
We kept everything in perspective while we were planning.
We tried to keep everything in balance.
A balance between cheap and over the top.
We wanted a nice wedding without breaking the bank.
We told each other over and over again, "It's one day but its the only 'one' day we will have."
I was never going to have to do it all again.
And all that for what?
To be married six months?
To go from planning for sixteen months for a wedding to planning a funeral in an hour a little over six months later?
Do not get me wrong.
Do not take this the wrong way at all.
I loved being married.
I loved being married to Roger.
And I loved the day we were married.
It was worth every thing we put into it.
It was worth all the stress and all the headaches.
And every penny.
Yet here I am.
Fifteen and half months later.
With nothing but memories, a video tape, and some photos.