At the beginning of the year Dan received a friend’s wedding announcement. That announcement came with a ‘plus one’. It had been hinted at that if Dan and I were still together by the time of the nuptials he would ask me to fill that spot. It was implied I would go as his girlfriend. Read in-between the lines, his serious girlfriend.
Lo and behold come August I was picking out a dress to wear to meet a slew of Dan’s friends. Dress and shoes in hand (who wants to wear high heels in the car?) I was ready for the evaluation of us as a ‘couple’. I’ve always felt on display at family/friend functions such as these. The term ‘arm candy’ comes to mind. Not on Dan’s part at all, though I think he was proud and happy to have me there as much for the company as for what it represented in terms of our relationship status.
As the couple said their vows in church, I held Dan’s hand. I had been flip flopping on whether or not I wanted to fully devote myself to Dan the last few months. The commitment we were witnessing was what I wanted. I wanted to make those same promises to love and cherish through good and bad, sickness and health, in front of my partner and our nearest and dearest.
Over whatever reception meal was served (they are all pretty much the same aren’t they?) I kept looking at this man I had spent the better part of a year with. He was funny and charming. Had a lovely family (who wouldn’t love a gambling granny?), a huge group of friends (I kept meeting more and more of them) and he was clearly interested in me for the long term.
So when the music started to play, for the funky chicken no less, my resolve to stay with Dan strengthened. There was a shift away from whatever reservations I had in the hopes of the bigger picture coming into focus. And with that, I left my high heels under the table and joined the celebration of the happy couple’s love.
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