Every girl dreams of her wedding day, mine didn’t live up to my expectations. Since I was seven years old, I would get lost in my own thoughts, in planning each detail of my wedding. From the flowers to the dress everything was going to be perfect. Yet, life can’t be planned and I had to learn the hard way.


I am compulsive obsessive and so far I’ve had accomplished everything I set my mind to. I finished high school in 2015, and got accepted into my dream college. Studied political science and attended Law School at Notre Dame University, right from there I got a job at one of New York’s most prestigious law firms. I was a successful independent woman but, later at work, I met the perfect guy at the right time.


Two years later he proposed on a stroll down Central Park, and everything seemed to be aligned. Six months ago I started with the plans. I booked the most luxurious hotel for the reception, had over the top floral arrangements and hideous lavender dresses for the bridesmaid so all the attention would be on me. The ceremony was to take place in the cutest little chapel at five o clock and my dress was personally designed by a well known designer. Since my fiancé came from a family with old money they paid for the honeymoon, and it was a villa in Malibu, California.


The morning of my wedding my blood pressure was off the scale. There was chaos my maid of honor, who has been my best friend since high school wouldn’t stop crying. She had a panic attack and I still don’t know why. Also, the swans I wanted at the ceremony kept pooping all over the place. The groom, my groom was still hangover from his bachelor party. My dress broke while I was sipping it up because of the extra pounds I had gained, and my grandma was on damage control duty. The mental image I would always picture included my grandfather, who is my father figure, walking me down the aisle. Not once was he not there, yet on the actual day he wasn’t. That man was my hero and his death was so hard to accept for me. When he died everything inside me died with him. My mother, who thought I was only marrying him for the money, as if I didn’t have any, was still trying to talk me out of it as I was getting ready. “I can tell he’s not the one for you, I feel you turning cold and unhappy. It’s not too late for you to cancel this and come to Puerto Rico with me…” and I would ignore her rambling.

This was it. The awful organ started to play and I started making my way down the aisle ignoring all the signs fate threw at me. Then, about halfway through I glanced to the left at one of the corners and that look was enough to make my heart stop beating. There at my wedding was my high school sweetheart lost somewhere in the 480 guests instead of in the front waiting. My knees started to tremble but I knew I had to keep going. I held tighter to my brother’s hand and kept on walking. Seconds later the preacher fell on the floor, he had a heart attack and hell broke loose. Women panicked my mother in law fainted, men screamed like little girls, chaos formed. I simply turned and walked away. I was finally free.




Today is Thursday, January 3, 2024 its exactly 74 hours after my wedding day and I am at Las Vegas. I ran away with him and eloped with my first and one true love. One look that’s all it took and the rush of emotions came all back and heighten. He is far from perfect but that’s the thing you don’t get to chose who to love, love choses you. I haven’t yet communicated with anyone but I don’t want to. It is three in the morning as I am writing this and I just felt the need before it all becomes a blur. I have never been this happy and if I could go back I wouldn’t change a thing.