Weddingbee Blog

Later, at the after party at the bar across the street, we’d dance until we dripped with sweat. A girl would buy me and Mr. PH a shot because, “There was a bride the last time I was here and I bought her a shot too!” Outside torrential rains would fall, loud and hard; you could barely see. We’d run outside to our friend’s waiting car, my heels in my hand, splashing in my dress and yelling, “This is the November Rain video!!!” Our friend would drop us off at our hotel across the street and we’d check in like it was no big deal, just our wedding, just my hair in curly tangles, my red lipstick still in place, panting from the sprint from car door to hotel door. But we were laughing and in awe of everything; the desk clerk didn’t seem to notice or mind.

We splurged on the honeymoon suite and ate the chocolate favors I’d stashed in my clutch. We looked at our new rings and we looked back on the day and ran through the Remember whens––and said things like, “Huh. Wow. Everything was perfect. How crazy is that?” It was like we didn’t believe it.

In the morning it was overcast and gray and I put on a sundress, a hoodie, and a scarf and laughed because PH had forgotten to pack sneakers and had to wear his fancy dress shoes with his casual khakis and button-down. We walked, across the street to the beach, on the path that we’d traveled yesterday in our wedding finery. Only my hair was in a mess of next-day curls and I kept finding bobby pins everywhere, and we had a brunch to get to and were starving and talking about how good coffee would taste.

We ate with family and friends, all in one room. I remember that my coffee was good and strong and that I got seconds at the buffet, dessert too. I don’t remember what I ate, I wish I did. But we ate and looked at digital photos and collected stories and hugged goodbye as slowly our guests left, headed back to their homes.

Funny. I thought I’d feel a bit let-down that day-after. I thought I’d feel happy, sure, but also sad that it was over, like I feel when I’m taking down the Christmas tree. I thought I’d feel instantly nostalgic and wistful.

But I didn’t. I just felt happy, head-explodingly, heart-achingly happy.

Our venue, morning after, a cold early-summer day.