A bride who longs for the perfect wedding day in May.
A bride who longs for the collection of onlookers and participants.
A bride who longs for the white dress and champagne.
A bride who longs for the flowers, perfect pictures, and dance.
A bride who longs for the new last name.
A bride who longs for the family inheritance.
A bride who longs for the bright future which lies ahead.
A bride who longs for the One she will call Home.
…on the night of the wedding, she tells the Groom she would rather not consummate the marriage. He looks at the bride, the one He has given Himself for, with tears; yet, still with compassion.
As the days go on, she won’t look Him in the eye or give of her time, never mind her life. She keeps Him at arm’s length, if that close. She stays out late. She is distant and cold, unless things are failing; only then does she return to Him, briefly.
Is it a true return if she again leaves so soon, so bold, so sure?
If she was ever truly His, could she have left at all?
Certifiably wed, in the eyes of man.
But…merely occasional flirting, at best;
-Midnight thoughts in Mexico, Dec 2016