Why I Hate Weddings.

August 21st, 2009. 6:00pm. My cousin Nathan's wedding has just begun. Every member of the wedding party walks elegantly down the aisle, looking beautiful. I watch the smile on Nate's face grow as he glances around, noticing the faces of all those attending. He looks so excited. Finally Brooke, the beautiful bride, makes her entrance. My first thought is how happy Nate looks to see her, and I am happy for him. Then, as I begin to notice every small detail about her dress, I cannot shake the thought, the fact, that I will never look that beautiful in a wedding dress. More thoughts pass - I wonder if I will ever get married. I think that over...nah, I know I will get married. But to whom? I stare with awe at the look on Nathan's face. His expression holds so much love and tenderness. I know he truly cares for her with all of his heart. He will love her forever. My thoughts change. I will get married, but will anyone ever be able to truly love me the way Nathan loves Brooke? I know I am capable of having that love for another, I just think it may never be reciprocated. It scares me, but at the same time I expect it. Throughout the wedding, Brooke's dad, who is also the minister, speaks of loving his daughter, of how happy he is for her, of how much he loves Nate. He is overcome with joy, that much is obvious. I think about my own father sitting next to me. I hope he won't be heartbroken that he will never see me that happy with anyone. I tell everyone that I hate weddings because they are simply materialistic and superficial. That the meaning has changed over the years to something far less. And though I believe this to be true, this isn't why I can't stand them. The truth remains that I can't stand the fact that I will be alone.