some half drunk wedding shit I found on the cell

[sral]

He's getting married tomorrow.
Happily following in the footsteps of his father.
He's never looked sharper. Beard trimmed, new shoes.
Who knew he'd find love before thirty like he wanted?
The nerves haven't yet started. Not a flutter from those butterflies.
No cold feet, just a gushing bride awaiting on the other side
of the ceremonial wall. Knowing shell walk and greet her man
Her husband.
Her life.
The reason that
She's there that day. They share the weight of expectation on their shoulders
pictures beneath a station less pagoda.
The way he holds her as she poses laughing in the photograph
it's all over fast. Too fast,
It's early but he's started
searching for his garments. Nothing written for his speech.
He delivers one with ease, to the joy of his extended family.