Wedding Day

It was the weekend after Thanksgiving, November 26th, 2016.  On top of the highest point in San Francisco, one peak of the twin peaks.  It was 7:00 am, the only day of the entire week that the clouds were pouring down little droplets of water.  I was wearing a white sundress with my black leather jacket and brown heels that resemble cowboy boots. He was wearing his favorite jeans with his most worn jacket.  Our immediate families were there all holding umbrellas and some draped in garbage bag like ponchos.  It seemed like we were on top of the world mostly because of the clouds and fog surrounding us.  I wore my great grandmother’s wedding ring and he wore a simple gold band.  It was perfect.  This moment would join us together forever, quite terrifying but also incredibly liberating.  I knew that I would love this man until the day I died.