dream wedding (aun no me caso tranqui)

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Me fui pa Conce (de nuevo) 
I wouldn't say I am a big fan of weddings so I honestly don't know why I got so excited when my boyfriend invited me to be his plus one. But I still went, still got all dressed up alongside him and his sister, and I still wrote about it. In this wedding, I ate more cake then I've ever eaten, saw love in real life, and clapped along as a clown made inappropriate balloon animals. 
While I was there, eating cake and pushing my salad to the side, I began to think about my dream wedding. Lets be real, the only time I have ever thought about these kind of things are when Lexus sends me wedding dress photos. But this time it was different. I thought in how I would feel if I ever got married. Would I be afraid of this commitment? Would I be head over heels in love? But that is personal, so I'm going to write about my "dream wedding." 
Whatever happened to the classic white dress?
Thinking of  future flower arrangements, the food, and the dress! I have seen some bad wedding dresses lately. Its like oh, its my wedding day, this should be THE day that I change my look. No. It should not be. Like I mentioned before, my best friend works at a Bridal store, so every once in a while I give in to temptation and go look around on their Instagram. And then I go watch Say Yes to the Dress. I don't want a big princess gown, lately I've been really into mermaid dresses and satin. Please stop me. 
Dresses I hate: 
Transparent dresses. Somehow they are the most expensive in Say Yes to the Dress. I don't understand. But the dress, although important, is not the topic of partygoers conversation.
Hungry Megan is not Happy Megan
Sometimes I think that people only go to weddings for the food, because anyone who has ever been to a wedding raves about what they had to eat. Elegant salads and delicately arranged vegetables are not my style. I told my aunt I wanted pizza at my wedding. She said no. So I have decided to have pot roast, and give the people pepperoni pizza as they dance until the sun comes up. 
EL MEDIO CARRETE
Of course there is going to a fiesta; with cumbia, salsa, bachata, and obviously regeaton, pa que perreamos hasta abajo. 
Pero en serio, el amor y todo eso: 
So I almost didn't go to Conce that weekend. The days before the wedding, I fought a lot. I even got mad over a donut. I was doubting just about everything, about me, about us, even my mental health. I felt I had all the reasons to be pessimistic. The point is, I was not in a lovey dovey mood, but it didn't mater, because the party had begun; and Diego, Paula and I began to dance.
Somewhere in between cumbia, and more cumbia, I remembered why I had fallen in love. Living with someone, although it can be for just a few days, a weekend in my case, can be hard when things are going wrong. I mean, I don't know how anyone reaches the point of getting married (jk sort of). But there I was, in a wedding, watching it happen with my own eyes. I had to believe in that moment that they could stand each other, more than that, that they loved each other, and that maybe they would even be together forever. This weekend I wasn't myself, I was problematic, I was sad, and I don't know if I was okay, or if it was all in my head. I didn't know if our love was strong enough to last for months, for years. I mean I'm leaving soon and I can't stop thinking about the future. But that night, during all those cumbias, I saw you dance like crazy, like nobody danced, because no one was daring enough to drop it low (except for the brides father). And I laughed, I laughed so much I thought that maybe everything could just be okay. And that if you kept dancing just like that, in fifty years, it could keep being alright. 


Comments

  1. Scarlett PontilloJuly 28, 2016 at 9:26 PM

    You are amazing Megan 😍 Algún día te ayudaré con tu matrimonio soñado! Me encanta lo que escribes, love u

    ReplyDelete

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