Tabatha Wharton

words

{musings of an aging millennial trope}



Eulogy for the Second Wedding I Will Never Have.

{this post was originally published on Elephant Journal}

  photo courtesy of David Suter/@entropic

photo courtesy of David Suter/@entropic

There was no hidden Pinterest board—no mapped out plan to prescribe a version of perfection in a single event. For once, I had made the conscious effort not to write the story, the future, to my liking.

That never stopped the visions, though. Moments, that felt like memories yet to be, crept up when I least expected them, specters of a life yet unlived slowly waltzing behind my line of vision, stealing my breath, and stopping my heart for a millisecond as I absorbed the unfettered bliss and beauty of such visceral imaginations.

A haunting of the future—of hopes for all that could be, might be, would be. A déjà vu, in reverse.

 

Read the rest on Elephant Journal here.