The Day Full of Butterflies (6 Years & Counting)

It was a day full of butterflies.

The ground outside stood muddied by rain, prayers and wishful thinking dried it no quicker.

So people gathered, and plans changed.

Under shelter, beams were raised, flowers planted, and lights ignited.

Soon a flood of faces filled the landscape, waiting for that moment, for the doors’ opening.

And they did open.

Beauty levitated past the onlookers.

Words, then, were spoken.

Promises were made, sealed with a kiss.

Por siempre y siempre, a moment of clarity within the emotions and colors that spun past our heads.

That’s how I remember it, at least.

To be honest, much of it was a blur.

So many faces and so much to do.

Not to mention the pressure.

I mean, after an entire year thinking about that day, your brain struggles to process it all, trying to keep important moments to recollect in your mental scrapbook for the years to come.

But it’s too much.

An overload of the senses.

A kaleidoscope of feelings and memories.

But I do remember your face.

I remember the fluttering of my stomach and the warmth of my face when you appeared.

I remember the butterflies fluttering up the Mount Everest of sugar.

I remember thinking, “I’m spending the rest of my life with this woman.”

Por siempre y siempre.

Of everything on that day, I remember you most of all.

You were, and still are, the lily in the midst of thorns.

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