Black. Again, I laugh. I’d never have chosen black dresses for my wedding. I’d choose something light and whimsical. A celebratory color. But then, this isn’t really my wedding, and it isn’t really a celebration either. Maybe funeral colors make perfect sense. I haven’t been able to muster the energy to complain about the things I don’t want. And I realize now, watching the small orb of blood trickle into the center of my palm, that’s because I don’t want this wedding at all.
