Invisible Crown

I never pictured myself as the type of girl to get married and live happily ever after. Technically, if one believed that a happy ever after was having twenty cats and becoming a little senile, I would have agreed with them. So, how did a girl that resented all things lace, sparkles, pink roses, and elegant cakes, agree to say I do to a man who has more personality issues then a traveling circus of monkeys? Oh wait, it’s because she loved him. Stupid. Planning a wedding was one thing, planning it for a ridiculous amount of people, that included rock stars, left me drowning in a sea of tulle and crystals. Since when was it not acceptable to run away to Vegas and share the horribly embarrassing photos after the deed was done? Why was it required for me to wear the perfect white dress, have the ice sculpture swan, and the amazing fireworks display, just to please the A-list guests, that I had no input on inviting? Wait, when did my wedding become an event? And don’t get me started on her. That woman was the bane of my existence. I’d rather wear heels during the entire ceremony then have to deal with that girl for the rest of my life. Hi, I’m Molly Anne McGlenister (soon to be Chambers), and apparently, I’m marrying the entire damn world. Perfect.