The day I confessed my love was your wedding day. You were dressed like a bride, like a beautiful flower ready to bloom. When I saw you in that glittering attire, those flowers adorning your hair, that jewelry on your body finally found their true worth, and of course that big bindi on your forehead reminded me of willpower and conviction. It has been a year now that I have known you, but still, I haven’t been able to confess my love.
And, how when you are getting married, I must tell you how I feel.
As you walked towards the mandap, I saw you looking down, your eyes full of tears, but I have always seen them brimming with confidence.
As you walked past me, I saw your lips quivering with shame and pain, but I have always seen them eloquent with determination.
As you sat in the mandap. I saw your beautiful face hiding under a veil of worry, but I have always seen it shining high with courage and poise.
But, do not let your worries mar this moment of happiness of your life.
Do not let the memories of that fateful night ruin the most precious moment of your life.
Do not let the men, who had shamed you that night lower your happiness quotient on this auspicious day.
I know the man you are getting married to, will accept you, love you, support you for who you are inside, and not just what you might have become outside.
Now, the rituals are over. I decided to confess my love, finally. I moved closer to you, and whispered into your ears, the words I didn’t say all this time, “ I love you, my dear wife.”
The day I confessed my love was OUR wedding day.