Our Wedding Day

It was about the time of year when I promised him that we could make it through a full year without an 'incident' I would marry him. I had to keep my promise. I don't know why I felt so obligated. I knew deep in my heart that I did not love him. There was a horrible unsettling feeling telling me not to follow through. What I didn't realize then (because I was under his control) is that over the last year where there was no physical abuse, he was putting his energy into master manipulation. My family and I were barely on speaking terms because they would not accept our relationship. He had convinced me that they 'didn't know me,' 'didn't love me,' 'didn't want to see me happy.' He was the one who went to work for me and my daughter everyday. He left his previous relationship to be with us. He was the one who really loved us. And so we would be married.

Friday. December 6, 2002. I woke up next to him that morning. I did not feel well. "Cold feet," he joked. I called it intuition. He was as excited as you would hope your groom to be. he could keep his hands off me and told he loved me a thousand times. I think I faked it pretty well. Every touch and every kiss made my skin crawl. Ironic. it was on our wedding day that the slightest touch from him began to repulse me. We headed off to work. Everyone was talking about it because they were the only friends I had and so the only people attending our 'reception' at Lyndy's, a local bar. not the classy type, either. I faked it all day long. I really just wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, "someone, please stop this from happening!!"

Another bit of irony: black on our wedding day. I wore a black knee-length, low-cut dress- it was the fanciest thing I could find on the sixty bucks he gave me to shop with. He wore his black suit; the same one he wore on our first date. It fit him a little tighter now. We were late. Late to our own wedding in the courthouse. To be witnessed only by my cousin and her girlfriend. We are called into the judge's chambers to go over details of the ceremony. Why do they call it that? We were in a courtroom. When she asked if she should say 'gathered before God' or 'together with love for', he agreed to go with the latter. I had been angry at Him for some time and besides, He had no part in that union. What we were doing was not at His will but at his. As we entered the courtroom, my legs get wobbly. It was very bright in there, made me feel light-headed. Not enough circulation; very stuffy. It was so cold I was shivering. Things got blurry and I did as I was told. A couple of handshakes and pictures with the judge and we head to the parking lot. I step outside and into the sun. The wind was blowing stron now, the temperature had dropped. More irony. The tears started to pour. Again I wanted to scream, "Someone, please stop this from happening!"

He hugged me and kissed my forehead. Said he knew it was overwhelming and to take a deep breath. Then he looked at my cousin and her girlfriend and asked, "what do you want to eat?" Everyone shrugged their shoulders and we look across the street to a ChaCho's. That's right. ChaCho's; and we had to hurry because we have to pick my daughter up from daycare by six thirty. One grande frozen margarita and a load of chicken fajita nachos and we head home.

Later that evening, we left her with another cousin to meet our friends at Lyndy's. Gallons of alcohol down the hatch got me through the night just fine. I don't remember much other than endless shots and laughs. The irony continued when I got a call from my cousin about my daughter. Apparently, the cold front that had come in earlier that day had made her ill. She was feverish and vomiting. Celebration is over. We all head home.