That Special Day Where I'll Have A Massive Panic Attack

I could see it now; I'll be a runaway bride

I could see it now. From head to toe--my whole body will be trembling in anxiety. I will look in the mirror, holding my tears because I know my makeup will be ruined. I’ll see myself, staring back with a lost expression. I’ll see myself, wearing that ethereal white gown, feeling so beautiful and wrecked at the same time. My heart will be leaping out of my chest, while I stand there frozen. I’ll want to fly out the window, fleeing from a dream.

I’ll be a runaway bride.

And it isn’t your fault at all; it’s just the way I am. I hate commitments. I hate being tied to a knot. It’s a claustrophobic feeling I wouldn’t know how to shake off. This will be where we’ll start. This will be a beginning of a new chapter. However, I’d be hesitant and hopelessly reluctant.

It’s not because I don’t love you, my dear. I’m willing to live a life with you. This will be when I’ll be able to claim to the world that you’re truly mine, for as long as it takes. It wouldn’t be forever; nothing lasts that long. But all I know is I’d thank you for all the time we’ve spent, all the love you’ve given me, and how you taught me to love someone.

I’ll be a runaway bride.

I’ll run out of the room, lifting my skirt so I could move. The rush of adrenaline will make me think in a one track train: run, run and run. People will be wondering where I’ll be going, screaming for me to come back. Some would be crying, some would be too shocked to react. I’ll shake off my high heels, sprinting on the paved road. Tears will suddenly flood my eyes, like a waterfall. All the pent up energy inside of me will finally explode. In a brief moment, I’ll regret my impulsive decision.

Forgive me.

If you’re everything I’d hope you to be, you’d chase after me. In your black suit, you’d sprint like an athlete. You would chase me, cry after me, and beg me to stay. You’d grab my arm, pull me in and hug me with your warmth. You’d hold me in your arms, letting me cry and kiss my forehead. I’ll be screaming, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” And you’d understand, because you’ll know what I mean.

I’ll be a runaway bride, but you’ll be worth running back to.