"I got married on Thursday."

No, your invitation did not get misplaced.

 The ceremony was sparsely attended.

I was waiting behind closed doors, nervous with anticipation.

I had a butterflied stomach.

Pangs of anxiety.

Melancholy.

Tears.

Don Henley was brought in to perform the service. 

His words soared on the eagle wings.

For my wedding, I will dress in black
And never again will I look back
Ah, my dark angels we must part
For I've made a sanctuary of my heart

I looked down and noticed I was wearing my black t-shirt. My threadbare jeans showed skin through the denim above my left knee. I dressed for the man I am.

To want what I have 
To take what I'm given with grace
For this I pray
On my wedding day

I considered everything I forgot to bring to my previous weddings. Forgotten in the ceremonies of formal attire and makeup. Tears spilled over the crystalline rim down the rough goblet of my cheeks.

For my wedding, I don't want violins
Or sentimental songs about thick and thin
I want a moment of silence and a moment of prayer
For the love we'll need to make it in the world out there

I left the empty room where I was sitting. I remembered long walks on empty beaches near Muir Woods; bony sand fingers gripping, trying to pull me under. Gulls shaking their beaky grins, mocking my self-induced isolation.  

To want what I have
To take what I'm given with grace
For this I pray
On my wedding day
On my wedding day
I dream, and my dreams are all glory and light
That's what I've wanted for my life
And if it hasn't always been that way
Well, I can dream and I can pray
On my wedding day

Bentley stirs, then burrows and rearranges the chenille nest laying across my lap to feel the halogen's redemptive light. The room is chilly.   

So what makes us any different from all the others
Who have tried and failed before us
Maybe nothing, maybe nothing at all
But I pray we're the lucky ones; I pray we never fall
To want what we have
To take what we're given with grace
For these things I pray
On my wedding day
On my wedding day

Separated. Divorced. 

Alone and in sanctuary. 

The tuxedos returned.

The flowers taken home by others.

The littered memories gathered and disposed.

One photo album in someone's closet.

One photo album flowing downstream in Colorado.

There were bridges in the distance. I had wanted to walk together. 

I forgot to leave the ceremony,

and come home for dinner. 

Janine, I regret not coming home.

Valerie, I regret not coming home.

The ceremony is over. 

Thursday night I cooked rice for dinner.

For emphasis - (b)