The Wedding Before the Stars (II)

A boy, about age 9, wandered from table to table, picking flowers and clutching them like a prince in search for a bouquet for his princess. He looked dashing in his long-sleeved shirt, which he wore under a cotton vest. The sight was surreal. But like everything else that night, it was magical.

Outside the pavilion, a group of polo players galloped in their chestnut-colored horses, intent in their mission to score a goal. The neighs and the grunts seemed to amplify in the silence that came before the music. It was in this short-lived silence, amidst the background of sporting noise, that my eyes locked with yours. They only said one thing: You came through for me.

An array of five expansive white draperies hung from the ceiling of the pavilion, their ends meeting at the very center. A constellation of crystal stars and sparkling snowflakes descended from this point. When light struck them, they first glittered and shone, and then reflected the light at several directions. When the music began, the stars danced with the beat.

Melody made way for Motion, Motion made way for Marriage, and Marriage made way for Majesty.

Melody: a ballroom tune that had been played in weddings for decades, but whose lyrics now run a special rhythm in our hearts; Marriage: a union between two souls, the merging of which may be painful and tough, but all the more meaningful; Majesty: you and me, me and you, together this night, bound by a common cord: our love for each other.

My sister wasn’t the only person who got married that night. Underneath the crystal stars, I danced with you, and we were together.

Filed under: Fiction, Yes?, Utter Joy