On a crisp sunny day in September, we climbed up a hill to an outlook near our house and vowed our love and loyalty. For all the attention I had previously desired, I’ll never forget how special and intimate it was that our elopement featured only my husband and me. We weren’t performing anything for anyone, but staring into each other’s eyes and making a promise. The privacy of the ceremony made it all the more sacred. As we walked home through the woods holding hands, the day seemed to light up with a secret glow that only we could see. Afterward we drank Champagne, ate lobster rolls, and called our families. They had no idea. Our wedding was ours alone.
Now we’ve turned the corner into a different year, and a new crop of “save the dates” have optimistically landed in my mailbox. These cream-color envelopes make it seem easy to go back to where we left off in March and start planning weddingpalooza all over again. But something’s changed between my husband and me. As the world becomes even more chaotic and surreal, it’s the marriage that takes center stage, pushing the wedding off to the sidelines.
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