I think it's because I care; that's why she likes me so much. I could go on and on about how I'm the luckiest guy in the world or a girl like her only comes around once in a lifetime, but that's boring and cliché. Not to undermine her brilliance or anything though, because she is rather wonderful.
But like I said, I care. When couples plan their weddings, I think all Americans understand as a culture that the woman is supposed to be in charge. She knows what she wants and the man is not to interfere. And don't get me wrong, Maria was no exception to this stereotype. But I cared about the wedding just as much as she did and I was not about to let the general public's expectations stop me from offering contributions whenever I happened to have an opinion. Not that my suggestions were ever implemented, but I did care and I'd like to believe Maria appreciated it.
I did manage to convince her of one change though. She had her heart set on having the color scheme consist of pastel yellow and pastel blue. Now, if there is one thing I learned from middle school art class, it's that a color scheme looks best if there is a neutral color involved. So after a lengthy discussion, I succeeded in convincing her to change to black and a normal light blue instead of that watery pastel stuff.
Not only did these two colors look much better, but it had a dramatic effect on her entrance to the sanctuary. When the groomsmen, the bridesmaids, the pastor, and the audience were mostly dressed in black, the room naturally seemed darker. But when I saw my radiant bride enter the room, dressed all in white, striding gracefully down the aisle toward me, it was almost too much to handle. The sudden brightness of her gown, the most divine of affections splayed across her features, and every moment I had ever shared with this wonderfully fantastic woman drove me to my emotional limit. While I managed to suppress the sobbing, I could not stop the tears of joy suddenly rolling down my face. She believed in the tradition of the groom not being allowed to see the bride before the ceremony, so that was the first I'd seen her in all her resplendence. That was the high point of the ceremony for me. The kiss was nice and all, but we had kissed before and honestly, I couldn't get the image of her gliding down the aisle toward me out of my mind. I hope I never do.
It happened hours ago, but everything seemed to be on fast forward after we left the altar. The reception hall was literally right across the street so we didn't need a car ride which meant no alone time. While this was the most pragmatic approach, I think I would have liked just a few minutes alone with her after the ceremony. Alas, I was denied this privilege. Dinner was wonderful though (Maria always knew what she was doing when it came to food) and my little brother teamed up with her older brother to give The Toast to End All Toasts, as we began to call it afterward. As with any good toast, it thoroughly embarrassed Maria and I while still managing to give everyone the feel-good sensations of vicariously experiencing our happiness. Which is a little weird, and one of the reasons I don't really enjoy attending other people's weddings.
Then it was time to say good-bye to the hundreds of attendees. Thankfully, many of them were families of their own and one good-bye could cover anywhere from 2 to 6 people. But this reduction was undermined by all the guests that wanted to personalize their good-byes, which turned them into 10 minute manifestos of adulation and well-wishing.
Finally, at ten o'clock, my new bride and I were on our way to my—our—home. I thanked God for giving us the brilliant idea to have our wedding at two in the afternoon. It gave us plenty of time for the ceremony and the reception and the ordeal of talking to family members afterward. The drive home was interesting to say the least. Maria and I spent virtually the entire time laughing. Not that anything in particular struck us as funny, but we just got married! We weren't coming down from that high for at least a week.
But now we are home. The car is off, but our seat-belts remain buckled. I turn to my darling Maria and look her in the eyes. One of the reasons I absolutely adore this woman is because we are able to communicate so much non-verbally. In that look, I saw the joyous rapture, the eternal gratitude, the weight of the day finally lifted from her shoulders, and... desire?
~
Desire.
Never in all my life have I felt this much desire all directed at one very specific—and very tangible—item. I didn't even know it was possible until now. I probably shouldn't call my new husband an item, but I am a bit overwhelmed with everything that's happened today, so I'm not sure I care. Thank God everything went smoothly though. If today's events had not been executed perfectly, I honestly don't know if I could even enjoy my first night as a married woman.
But I am not going to think about that. I need to focus on the here and now. Tonight is the night Isaac and I are going to begin our lives together as husband and wife. And that, of course, comes with a few traditions I have been looking forward to very, very much. Growing up Lutheran, I have learned to repress my sexual urges. I don't hold a grudge or anything; I'm actually quite thankful for my Christian upbringing. As I watched my classmates going through the drama of teen pregnancies or even pregnancy scares, I always took solace in the fact that I would not have to worry about having kids until I was married.
But now I am married. Now, I am free. I no longer have to hold back. Isaac and I can move on from the innocent little kisses of dating life. The whole of my sexuality is finally unrestrained. I just hope he can handle it. He looks a bit confused, actually.
"Is everything alright?" I hope I haven't accidentally just killed the mood.
"Oh, yes, of course!" he replies, slightly flushed. "I honestly have never been happier." He smiles genuinely. "I've just never seen that expression on your face before. Heck, I'm not even sure I can identify it."
"You'll have all night to try and figure it out," I allude, none too subtly. I do love how in tune he is with my emotions. I was doing my absolute best to hide my desire, but he picked up on it so I'm going to roll with it.
"Then why are we still in this car?" he asks with a mischievous grin. With that, we finally start our journey to our home, the final destination being the bedroom. Or anywhere, really... No. Our first night together needs to be in the bedroom, on the bed. There will be plenty of time for creativity in our ensuing years together.
He opens the front door and holds out his arms. Yes! I love this man so much. I leap into Isaac's arms and he carries me lovingly across the threshold of our home, both of us laughing the entire time. I expect him to set me down in the front room, but instead he carries me all the way up the stairs and into our bedroom, almost as if he knew what I wanted. I have often wondered whether or not he possesses some form of ESP, but in reality, I think he is simply incredibly in tune with my body language and non-verbal cues. I wish I could be the same for him, and hopefully that will come with time.
He sets me down on the bed, and I notice for the first time how damp my underwear are. It startles me at first, but I've been aroused before and the feeling isn't exactly new. Although for the first time in my life, I can do something about it. Even better, I can have my new man do something about it. This realization cranks up my arousal a few clicks. My breathing is becoming heavier and I can feel my skin starting to flush. I wonder if he'll notice.
"Well, you sound like you're ready to go," Isaac teases. He definitely noticed. But I am not about to let his snark get the best of me. Oh, no. I learned how to combat this years ago. A completely calm and rational explanation of whatever he's mocking usually shuts him up pretty quickly.
"Isaac, I have been repressing almost every sexual and sensual urge that has struck me since I started liking boys—" over-simplifying my diction works too, "—and tonight, I can finally give in to them. That's nearly ten years of built up tension that is about to be unleashed here very soon. So pardon me if I seem a bit eager." I'm glad I managed the calm and rational tone, but I don't know how much longer I can stay in this dress. It's practically begging to be ripped off of me.
"Hmmm, I see," he muses. If he doesn't make a move soon, then God help me I will tie him to this bed. Actually, that's not a bad idea...
