It’s hard to plan a wedding when your parents haven’t talked to you in weeks. When they accuse you of torturing them and of being their biggest shame. It’s difficult when your brothers don’t reply to your messages, and your friends are all halfway across the world, when your best friend is dealing with her own hurdles, and when you barely know your bridal party. It’s difficult when you have to let go of some of your dreams and when some of the ideas you really value are easily dismissed or barely accepted. At the end of the day, the material things don’t matter one bit, at the end of the days you’re so terribly grateful that you are blessed with this great moment. The assistant at the dress store says to pick a dress that will forever emblazon the memory of you in his mind. You realize that that is exactly what you want to do. Then comes the part of accepting that it’s not something that’s a priority in his day, that you won’t have that moment that every girl deserves. The one where she feels absolutely beautiful and perfect for one brief second. And you think, if you have to sacrifice that, at least you should be able to have a family that will celebrate your joys with you. To make this day one of the best in your life. Not something that you’ve began to dread. And if you can’t have that moment and you can’t have your family, it’s easy to begin to lose sight and to forget the point. And that’s the worst thing of all. Because you love this man and he’s really trying and you appreciate it, more than words can say and actions can express, and you feel petty and guilty and like the worst person in the world. And you’re stupid so you rant about it on tumblr and your hide under your covers and you wish with all your heart that you make it through this because deep inside what you’re really worried about is that all of this is coming close to triggering another breakdown and you’ve been good for so long and it would be a terrible shame to begin slipping again.