I’ve tried to think of something profound and meaningful to write on this, the eve of our wedding, but my brain is so full of last minute details for the big day that I simply can’t.  So I’ll share a quick story. Some of you will know it, some of you won’t, but it’s sort of the tale of how we got here, Carl and I, one day away from getting married…

8 years ago I went to a birthday party.

I agonised over my outfit choice beforehand, strutting in front of my sister in multiple ensembles and asking her how each one looked. I settled on a pair of dark grey trousers and a pale blue sweater, worn with a pretty pair of pale blue pumps with a huge black bow on them. I gave myself a generous spritz of Davidorff Cool Water before I left the house too.

I had a huge crush on the birthday boy. I was convinced he wasn’t interested in me. Not like that anyway. We were friends, that’s all.

I was wrong.

We kissed.

I spent the night. I can remember leaning out of his bedroom window for a post-coital cigarette as the sun came up over West London.

A few hours later, I got dressed, said an awkward goodbye, and did the walk of shame back home.

Tomorrow the only walk I’ll be doing is the one that will take me down the aisle to marry him.

Happy Birthday Carl.
All my love,
Your almost wife
xXx

All pictures my own, apart from the final image ~ photography copyright (c) 2011 Eliza Claire

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