No, this is not a review of that Ryan Agoncillo movie. Ok?
My older brother was married just this Saturday, November 17, at the Chapel of Transfiguration in Calaruega. Despite my month-long irritation with the preparations for the event (which was brought about by my brother’s incessant bugging for my financial contribution to the expenses and his exaggerated worry about my punctuality on the wedding day itself) the ceremony turned out to be a beautiful and touching one, with just minor snags along the way.
Needless to say, I am very happy for my brother. See, we all thought that he will never get married. He was already 33 years old, with no serious girlfriend in sight. All these years of toiling hard in his work and making ends meet for us when my mom lost her job had taken its toll on his finances and his overall enthusiasm in finding the right woman. A lot of our relatives actually thought that I will be the first one to get hitched.
So my mom and I were shocked when he suddenly announced late last year that he was already getting married. He met Ira during a wedding (surprise, surprise) and they were actually both in the groomsmen-bridesmaid group. And just four months after they first met, they decided to be partners for life.
Of course, my overly cynical nature was at first, very skeptical about this much-awaited union. I suspected that my brother just wanted to put an end to all those expectations about his impending matandang binata-hood. All my malicious thoughts evaporated when I finally met my sister-in-law to be. The woman is definitely wifey and mother material, and she is soooo sweet, gentle and soft-spoken it is kinda sickening. She is the classic sugar, spice and everything nice. Let’s just say that next to her, I look like the devil incarnate.
My next reaction is totally expected from a baby sister who is used to be the only apple of her big brother’s eye. I got a little jealous of the intruder. See, I am a kuya’s girl, and I was more scared of him than my mother. But eventually, I learned to do away with my evil thoughts and considered her as my ate.
The most remarkable thing about the wedding, aside from the fact that it was pretty as a picture, given the scenic beauty of Calaruega, is that it made me more emotional that I normally am. I am not the type to cry at weddings, or any other touching ceremony. Yet, when I saw ate-to-be walking down the aisle in her Monique Lhuiller-inspired wedding dress, with tears streaming down her face (thank God her makeup was waterproof!) I felt my own tears well up, much more when I saw my brother almost about to burst to tears himself. I managed to keep mine from running down my heavily made-up mug in torrents because I remembered that MY makeup was NOT waterproof. I absolutely refused to ruin my perfectly cool and poised bridesmaid demeanour by boo-hooing my eyes out. But yes, I was that close to crying myself. I was really about to lose it especially during the end of the ceremony, when the priest told my brother that he can finally kiss his bride. He first gave her a light peck on the lips then with his eyes closed, enveloped her in a tight hug that, in my opinion, spoke more volumes than the kiss itself. They held each other in that emotional embrace before they kissed each other passionately, reminiscent of the way Richard Gomez and Lucy Torres kissed during THEIR Ormoc wedding.
It was definitely love pouring out in cosmic blasts throughout the church all the way down to the lower ends of the vast Calaruega gardens.
The only downside to the whole thing? It suddenly made think of re-evaluating my plans of being in singlehood bliss forever, or at least for a very long time.
Blame it on the ten people who kept asking me when MY wedding is going to be. After telling them over and over that I am enjoying singlehood way too much to get married soon, they retaliated by blabbing about the dificulties of having babies after 30, the importance of having a husband to take care of me etc etc ad infinitum.
Not that I have a choice at the moment. Getting married soon is not feasible since I don’t have a long-time, steady boyfriend whom I can wheedle a platinum and diamond engagement ring from. In fact, prospects (if there are any!) are downright dismal right now that any hopes of settling down are as comprehensible as Russian gibberish.
Aside from the obvious absence of a man, my own plans for career and financial security does not leave me much time and energy to actively check out the singles market for a decent boyfriend, much less a husband-to-be. Also, my standards are not easy to adhere to, for I require nothing less than intelligence and character from my prospective men. Lest we forget, men of that quality are hard to find.
And yes, I am still kinda enjoying the rush I get from my occasional bouts with promiscuity; although I have considerably toned down compared to my misadventures a couple of years ago. The thrill of sleeping with whomever I like, whenever I like is still too exciting to give up, something I have to do when a steady man comes along.
Sigh. Remind me not to go to weddings after this.
