His final say
POSTED 09.03.2010 @ 14:57
The day before Sam and I got married, I cried my eyes out. Properly wept.
I was in front of my laptop at the hotel, trying to write my wedding speech. I didn’t quite know where to start. So I read through several of my old madison columns, which have charted our relationship in monthly episodes, stage by stage, over two-and-a-half years – from when we started dating, to when we moved in together, to dealing with relationship troubles such as my roving eye and my anger management issues, to weighing up marriage, to buying the ring, to popping the question, to undergoing marriage preparation … quite the journey.
It had been a manic week of last-minute sorting, and in just taking a few quiet moments to size up the magnitude of what we were doing it all for, the tears started rolling down my cheeks and dripping onto the keyboard.
As I dabbed at the keys, there was a knock at the door. I wasn’t fit to be seen, so I tried to ignore it. But then I heard the voice.
“Dan? You in there?” It was Will, my best man. I quickly splashed some water on my face and grabbed a towel to try and disguise the upset. Didn’t work. “Oh, mate, are you okay?” he asked as I opened the door. “What’s up? Big-match nerves?”
All week, people had been asking me if I was nervous: “Getting butterflies, yet?” “You must be getting a few jitters before the big day.” “Is that fear I can smell?”
“No, I’m fine,” I replied. “I’ve just had a bit of an upset stomach, that’s all.”
I wasn’t nervous. Well, not about anything except the first dance. And possibly my speech, if I didn’t finish writing it. And crying during the vows, if these tears were any indication of my emotional stability. But never at any point had I felt nervous about marrying Sam, because I can honestly say I have never been more certain about anything in my life. It was such an amazing feeling that I felt overwhelmed. Humbled. Proud. Excited and amazingly lucky.
Fortunately, there were no tears on the day itself, although I had a lump in my throat when I turned to see Sam – serene and beatific – float up the church aisle towards me with the elegance of a classic movie star.
I thought: bloody hell, I’ve punched above my weight, here!
My old man, a retired vicar, conducted the ceremony and there was a discernable tremor in his voice that, at times, found an echo in ours. We had an unspoken agreement between the three of us that we mustn’t set each other off.
They tell you, those wise, old been-there-done-that souls, that your wedding is “the best day of your life”. Happily, they weren’t wrong. We could not have wished for anything better.
It was a winter wedding over in the UK – roaring fires, Christmas carols, steaming mulled wine. We had one of those crisp, fresh, ruddy-cheeked days when you can see your breath in front of you. And as I looked into Sam’s eyes, said my vows and got swept away in the romance and the gravity of the moment, I believe without any overblown schmaltz that I could also see my future.
Having said “I do” to Sam, it now feels like the right time to say “adieu” to
madison. I never imagined that I would write a column that focused so closely on my love life, but it has been a privilege to do so. At times, it has been as cathartic as a confessional – just more exposed.
Now? Well, a new chapter has begun, and I feel it’s a journey for two that we – Sam and I – are now on, which we will experience together. Strangely, I’ve shared more with you than I have with my close friends – although, unbeknownst to me, my closest friend was reading every word.
During his best man’s speech, Will read out a selection of the most embarrassing and incriminating lines from my column. I might have been struggling to prepare my own speech, but I’d already written most of his for him. I’ve never pretended to be much of an authority on relationships. I am an idiot. I learn by trial and error.
But I do learn. And what I have always been – to a fault – is honest. Honest about what I think, honest about how men think. And I would hope that for all my apparent weaknesses, I have one very obvious strength. Her name is Sam and she is the absolute love of my life.