The most heartbreaking part about getting married is - Packing.
How do you pack your life until now into a couple of suitcases? I may enjoy a lot of things but I always believed that I am a nomad at heart. That is, when the time comes, or if ever needed, I can drop it all, stand on my head and be ready to dive, no backpacks. I really thought it would be very simple - books and clothes. What else do I need anyway? The rest of my life with its lunches and dinners will continue, albeit at another place. Same routine, different style. Same me, another place.
Turns out, I couldn't be more wrong.
As I go through my closet, segregating things from what I may need and not need, I come across these little things that I saved up - a flight ticket to a family vacation years back, a note from Dad pretending to be santa on one of the christmases, my first employment later, and so much more. These are the papers I find myself unable to get rid of. These papers signify the life I had here, the love I got, the sweat I gave, the good times I had. Even though I shall be packing these in my suitcase, why does it feel I am leaving these behind?
Time they say is a great healer. My friends tell me I will be fine. Many do the shift, many or most emerge as winners, accommodating the change as a part of their lives. As if, this was always the plan. Sitting back and thinking today of all the lovely times that I have had, in this very room, I feel grateful for experiencing the life that I did. Sometimes this part of life feels like the destination; sometimes, a new beginning. One thing that underlines the two sides of the bridge, is the love that was endlessly flown to my shore. While I carry the love that was showered so far, safely stored in my heart, I am looking forward to the love awaiting me.
With due respect to all the women who do it, I am ready, to cross over to the other side.