“What did YOU get her?” I was smugly asked, and she did not know either so I had to answer. As I told them what I gave I saw the look in the celebrant’s eyes, a look of disappointment and of total cluelessness as if I had let her down. Eyes and emotions stabbed my heart and yes, my ego. I felt ashamed that I did not give her anything - at least not on this day. I gave my gift early, so I guess it does not count. Like a fool I gave it nonchalantly, so I guess it’s not note-worthy. Multiple days I drove, I carried, despite being tired as they were out welcoming someone who they praise in success. The multiple times I spoke and was ignored. The myriad of “what was that?” or “did you say something?” recounted in my memories. I gave up a few projects because she said it meant a lot that we would all be together. Yet I was the one on the sidelines. The driver, the bag-boy the one who spoke but was not heard. I even closed an establishment to accommodate you and the guests because that was what I could give in addition. I am neither rich, nor successful by your standards but I do try. The fact that all this is unnoticed makes me want to tear my hair out and scream at the top of my lungs. But then again you might not notice anyway.

At home for almost a month and up to this day, I smiled politely at the physical threats, verbal berations and the dangers from your siblings. I apologized for being unavailable at your husband’s convenience even though I tried for days to get his help. I apologized and let your relatives go on believing they are right when I knew in my heart that I was right and they were wrong. Now they lord over me because I became passive. They stare at me with murder in their eyes as I humbly bow down instead of show them they can’t treat me like that. Now I lost and they feel like they won. All because I listened to the passive advice that was not part of who I was. All for you. So if my early gift that you don’t remember was not enough, then I hope that this reminds you that even before my forgotten gift two days ago, I gave up who I was to make you happy at the expense of my own conflicting feelings.

My gift does not count because it was given too early. Despite the practical use and the well thought out addition to what you wanted. Something that would be in your hand everyday, perfectly appropriate for years to come. Yet I felt so miniscule as she was surrounded by cakes, flowers and various meals. All because what I gave her was not remembered nor acknowledged. I’m sorry I did not give you something that would be converted to excrement when you defecate. I’m sorry I did not give you something that would wither and die, to be discarded as garbage. I’m sorry that my presence there was not as important as everyone else’s. I’m sorry I did not give you something that was revealed in a sweet or a grand way. All I gave you was what I could afford in my pockets at that time. Something you would use everyday and would never expire. I’m sorry for this gesture and most of all I’m sorry for giving it early when you needed it and not when everybody else could have seen it. I’m sorry.

The church bells rang, the expression of feelings consummated. Culminating to one moment of passionate "I Do's" followed by a kiss fully meant. Tears of joy, of loss and gain, all at an instant. An incomparable instant. Eyes closed and hands held through the solemn rituals and promises kept. Commitments met, commitments meant and commitments planned for the future. But before the next step is a moment for the here and now. The only thing that matters this very second... The only thing that should be perfect for now is this kiss and the walk down the aisle. The beautiful chaos of rice flung in the air, of doves captured to be set free, of adorned honking vehicles and flowing white gowns, of meals, dedications and photographs.

I bowed down happy yet feeling pity for myself. Through all the years of love ruined by conflict. All the potential others that did not go the distance. Words about forever eventually ending as purely that - just words. The sacrifices of understanding and forgiveness through all this... Things I thought were noble, expressions of true love and a martyr-like ultimate gift have all been passé. It was hard not to be bitter. Not for one single person but for the multitude of past experiences tantamount to wasted time. Now I stand here, a guest of honor, the man on table one, a journalist, a photographer, the appointed curator of these sweet sweet memories never my own. For today the church bells rang in celebration yet again... But not for me.