Sonja Foust, Romance Author

There are pockets in my bridesmaid dress. At first, this was bemusing to me. Pockets? In a dress? And, like, not a light, airy, kindergarden teacher dress. A nice, formal dress.

But after thinking about it, I kind of get it.

I’ve never been in a wedding (except one, my sister’s, where I was the only attendant) where some bridesmaid didn’t start weeping during the ceremony. Invariably, the ones that weep never have kleenex with them. I, being somewhat Type A, usually have a whole kit of massive overplanning with me, like safety pins, aspirin, bandaids, and, yes, kleenex. I hide the kleenex in my hand next to the bouquet. And then I hand it over because I never weep… well, much.

Maybe I get a little misty when they talk about how one of my best friends is going to live Happily Ever After, or maybe it makes me well up a tiny bit when the groom looks at her with all the love I know she deserves. And there may possibly be the tiniest bit of moisture around the corners of my eyes if the bride or groom happens to cry, too.

But I don’t weep. It would mess up my makeup, and then where would we be?

Congratulations to my bestest buddy Skye and her groom-to-be Craig, who are getting married tomorrow! I love them both!… but I probably still won’t cry.

Related posts:

1. Another Year Over, New One Just Begun
2. Asymmetry