Dum, Dum, Da, Dum.

Ahhhh. Weddings are nice.

Well, maybe weddings with Andrew's family are nice. My family weddings suck ass 'cause they're full of imbociles and sobbing fathers and bad dresses and high priced wine for all the family members you never, ever want to talk to, even on happy occassions.
Andrew's family weddings are simple and happy and full of mum's and dad's with silver lined feet and silly brothers whom drink to much and attempt to moon walk across the old floor of an even older community center. Too much fun.
It was really a perfect Autumn day and I am happy for the bride and groom because everything was picturesque. The rolling meadows that flowed outside the tiny church, the gentle breeze, the warm fall colours... The old ladies who tried to steal away the plates of roast beef and mashed potatoes before we even had a chance to stab at 'em. It reminded me of a Hallmark made for TV movie about a happy family, in another time, that didn't have a care in the world and was just happy to exist in the memories of eachother. It was terribly uplifting, and upon arriving home to my uncomfortalbe and miserable home, terribly depressing.

I realised that day that if Andrew and I did live closer, I would have dumped him quite a long while ago. He's sort of clueless in regards to how to handle a girlfriend. Watching her shiver outside and not offering her your coat is a bad sign, so is leaving her to sit by herself in the middle of a bunch of strangers while you go mingle with someone you haven't seen in a couple months. As annoying and frustrating as it was, I couldn't dump him over stupid things like that now. Love is the mender of all wrongs.
At the same time I wouldn't change Andrew for anything. I hate forgetting the bits of him that make me love him. And when I spend so much time apart from him, it's easier to forget that fluttery feeling that floats through me whenever he's around. And of course, as soon as he returns, there it is. Smacking me in the face like the mighty hand of God, keeping me in-line and filling me to the brim with all sorts of wonderful (no pun intended).

I eventually, by many aunts and mums, was pulled onto the floor and made to wiggle around like a diseased sausage. Dancing is an awful form of exercise. I squirmed back to the wall, and pasted my body to it, like a proper wallflower and then a slow song came about. I felt like a stupid teenager at a highschool dance, waiting for her crush to ask for a go while everyone watched with expectant eyes.
Andrew did ask me to dance, and we did make fools of ourselves as he tried to spin me and dip me and twirl me across the floor, but I didn't mind. Not at all. 'Cause everyone in his family loved it and were happy because we were happy and that was the first time I had ever experienced such an overwhelming feeling of joy.

Sillly Families.

At around twelve, massive cheese platters with pickles and deli meat were dropped on the long tables in the basement of the hall. Andrew and I gorged ourselves on little cakes and coffee, which eventually made my belly do summersaults. We spoke to his family, and I made friends with a bunch of different members. The sister of the groom was wearing the same shirt as me, which was a bit of a let-down in the, "looking good" department, but after having everyone tell me that I looked better in it, I felt much more secure.

'Cause Damn, I was lookin' hot.

Eventually Andrew and I stomped back up the stairs and had another go at some dancing. We went to cool ourselves off through one of the side doors. I walked in my stockings onto the bare cement steps and shivered as the cold stone touched my toes. Andrew wrapped his arms around me and we kissed for a minute. We broke away to look at the stars and talk about the night's events. I eventually snuggled back into him, which lead to an insane fit of kissing. It was hot and cold all at once and while he was thinking, "Fuck, I want to screw her right now,' I was thinking, 'Damn, I love him.' And while both thoughts are accurate to the people involved, knowing that he was thinking that made me love him so much more because that's just who Andrew is.
That moment was like a dream that I didn't want to wake up from and I'm a little overwhelmed because I have never, ever, properly been in romantic love like this before.

Eventually Scott, Andrew's brother was so insanely drunk he decided to break both his legs which caused massive fits of laughter by everyone who wittnessed the event.
I do not think, I've ever been more amazed by a single family in my entire lifetime. And now I'm thinking that I need to marry Andrew, just for the experience of the wedding.