Now, I know what at least a couple of people are thinking.
OHHH, THAT BITCH GOT LEFT AT THE ALTAR.
No! That is not what happened. Fuck you, guys. He went through with marrying me. sucker.
It was beautiful. Small and intimate. My brother married us and we were able to completely surprise his grandparents with our nuptials. We laughed and cried and then laughed at our crying. We were the couple on top of the cake. We were giddy. However shortly after the ceremony, our beloved English Bulldog, Zeus, passed away. It was completely unexpected. The emergency vet told Matt it seemed like Zeus had some sort of underlying respiratory condition that went unnoticed, and the mix warmth and excitement, labored his breathing. It stopped his heart. She assured us it could have happened at any time.
We were devastated. Zeus had been our homie for over five years and we were ridiculously obsessed with him. He was our partner-in-crime and, as silly as it may sound, our furry little kid.
Despite the horrible circumstances, our friends and family helped us make the best of the remainder of the day--well, them and a little panacea known as alcohol. But as soon as everyone went home, Matt and I were left with the task of dealing with an empty apartment.
The next couple weeks were taxing, we tried to come to terms with this loss, and the fact that it happened on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of our relationship. Eleven years we waited to get married, and within 20 minutes of saying "I do", our squishy dog-child was gone. That fucked with me pretty bad, I'm not going to lie.
I wish I could have come back after being away for such a long time and say that everything was perfect, but that just ain't life, baby. As I get older, I'm learning that life will fuck with you sometimes. It will tear you apart, just to prove you're capable of putting yourself back together. And even though I miss Zeus every single day, I can't help but feel lucky that I didn't lose any family. Or friends. Or my husband.
Recently, I saw a picture of someone I know on Facebook. She was sitting on her fiance's grave in her wedding dress. Someone always has it worse.
It's been almost two months since our wedding and Zeusie's passing. Sometimes I'll come home and still expect him to greet me at the door, before being reminded of his absence by the silence in my house. But then again, sometimes I still forget that I'm someone's wife now.
I guess these things just take time.