Writing a wedding speech is difficult. It’s nerve-wracking and has to be written during a period of intense wedding-induced stress. Having little to go off of can make it even harder to sit down and put pen to paper.
For me, I wrote what I knew and what I knew was the truth. It made me so happy to think that I’d finally been able to show people the very intense, very real love I have for my now-husband.
[bctt tweet=”I wrote what I knew and what I knew was the truth.” username=”wearethetempest”]
So I want to share it with you, Tempest fam! And hopefully, it will inspire you to write your own kickass wedding speeches.
I can’t remember the last time I wrote you a letter. I must have been a young, sixteen-year-old girl, pining after you in history class. I would hide letters to you under piles of notes, quickly pulling them out as soon as my teacher turned her back. Cheeky, yeah?
It feels like forever ago, or rather, it felt like forever ago. As the wedding came close I found myself constantly thinking back to the first few months. We were so, so young, yet somehow we knew it would be forever.
I can’t remember the first time I knew that, but I do remember, unlike Kanye, the first time we met.
I’d been bad, I guess. But I prefer to call it infatuated. I lied and told my parents I was going out with friends, which was half true. They didn’t know I’d also be seeing you for the first time.
Do you remember what I said? ‘You’re so tall!’
But I’ve always been honest. A realist. I tell-it-like-it-is. I guess I get that from my dad.
But you were different. You threw me off. I finally didn’t know how to feel. Or, I didn’t know how to talk about it. Growing up, my bookshelf was covered in teen romance novels. I loved them like my own family. I remember I’d kiss my parents goodnight and close my eyes, but as soon as they were gone I’d grab a torch and a book and read until the sun came up. Literally; light peeked through my window as I turned the last page.
So I thought I knew how romances went. I knew that I’d meet you, we’d slowly fall in love, we’d definitely have a major fight to create a jaw-dropping climax, then we’d eventually make up and get married.
Or something like that.
I thought I knew what love was. I thought I knew what you, my first love would be.
But you surprised me. Not just with your stellar personality, but with just how deeply I fell in love with you. For a realist like me, I’ll call it reckless.
Falling in love with you was reckless.
Don’t get me wrong, you tick all the boxes. You’re a smart and creative writer with the kind of kindness I’ve only ever seen in one other person my whole life.
Did I mention you’re also really freaking hot?
But you’re reckless. Falling in love with you was reckless.
Not because you’re not an amazing person. But because when we go through rough times it feels like my heart is breaking. And no matter how often it happens, it always breaks in the same way. Impossible and painful.
As I’m writing this letter, I’m sitting at my desk and singing along with all the songs we listened to in high school. And I’m crying because love is harder than it seems. When you have a love like ours, one that has transitioned from and between the most turbulent stages of life, it isn’t easy to stay together. Going from high school to university to adulthood is really hard. We’re constantly changing and for some people, it’s difficult to deal with change, even us.
I know no one wants to hear about this on a wedding day. Why would you? It’s meant to be a happy day celebrating our love. But that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m not celebrating a mirage of ideal love. I’m celebrating real love.
Because through all the impossibility and all the pain, we’re still here. And I love you so much because of it.
I don’t just love you because you tick all the boxes. I love you because you’re a person, completely separate from me. And somehow, in the huge mess that the world is, we managed to find one another.
Five years ago, you told me that you’d be with me through every happiness and every tragedy. You were so young to make a promise like that to me.
And remember, I’m a realist. I told myself that that’ll never happen because how can you, someone so young, promise me your little piece of the world?
But here we are. And you never broke that promise.
So Wade, on my 22nd birthday, in 2017, I want to promise you that I will be with you through every happiness and every tragedy.