MY wedding is going to be crap.

Crap, now.

Honestly, a pile o’ shite.

Tacky. Boring. Over the top. Cheap. Too long. Awful food. Terrible music. Sharp wine. Fat bride.

The speeches will be cheesy, no-one will bet on them because, frankly, nobody will care what’s said or how long they are.

There’ll be stingy portions of food, stingy glasses of wine, stingy favours. Stingy pieces of cake at the afters.

No-one will dance.

No-one will talk.

No-one will laugh.

There’ll be tutting. Sighing. Longing looks at watches. Desperate downing of brandies at the bar. Fierce hissing of ‘how long do we have to stay for’ into spouses’ ears.

There’ll be fake smiles. Two-handed handshakes and desultory pats on the back. You look lovelies, through gritted teeth.

No-one will want to be there. They’ll wish they were anywhere else but there.

People will go home early. They’ll take off high-heels in halls and sigh with pleasure rubbing their aching feet, adding ‘Thank God that’s over’ for good measure.

It is going to be an unmitigated disaster. Of that, I am sure.

I have a horrendous case of The Wedding Jitters. I wrote before about The Fear, the feeling every bride gets when she is planning her wedding wondering if she’ll ever find the right venue, the right dress, the right anything. Stupidly, I thought that once the finer details were nailed down, all that worry went away. I was wrong. The Fear is simply replaced with The Jitters. The Fear is something that can be laughed at, sighed over, you can put it aside and horse into a vat of ice-cream, telling yourself it’ll all work out. The Jitters shake you awake in the middle of the night to announce themselves. And then they move in.

Nothing is right. Everything is wrong. Although all our plans are on track and we are galloping along with the last details, I am convinced everything is going to come crashing down around me and even if it doesn’t, I know that what we have planned won’t be enough.

There is nothing special about my wedding, nothing that is going to make the guests ooh and ahh. I don’t know why that concerns me, it never did before. But suddenly I am seized with the urge for Something.

I know that, if I was sane, I’d realise that the Something is simply us. Me and Yer Man. Getting married. Taking the plunge. That’s why all those people are invited, to witness us making this huge life-changing committment.

But somehow that thought doesn’t console me today.

Today, I think – that’s it? Us? Rilly? We’re the wow factor that’s going to make all the months and years of planning, saving and sacrifice seem worthwhile?

That’s all we got? Us?

I have a horrendous case of The Wedding Jitters and I fear the ugly sisters Panic and Doubt are only around the corner.

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