I loved weddings.
I sat—legs swinging—as the Bride and Groom
Walked past me, lighting up the room
With honey-glazed smiles.
At the altar, the Groom held the Bride's hands.
Palms against palms; fingers against fingers.
They kissed. Two lips merged into one.
I walked to them to say congratulations.
I told them that I want a wedding like theirs.
They said I will meet my lovely Wife one day.
It was there where I met Charlie.
His eyes were the ground for my levin eyes.
He smiled—My heart was lightened.
I asked my mum: "Can I marry Charlie?"
She laughed—
"Of course, darling! But you have to grow up first,
So don't talk about this yet, OK?"
I turned 20. I asked her again: "Can I marry Charlie now?"
She said I was too grown-up to talk about imaginary
friends—
At the tree stump, i held charlie's hands.
Palms against palms; fingers against fingers.
we kissed. Two lips parted, tears-glazed.
One more wedding to go to today.
The wedding that charlie and i will never get to have.
They smile—They cheer for the Bride and the Groom,
Not for me—not for charlie—
They say that he is my—
imagination. They say that he is my—
friend—
i hate weddings.
#สมรสเท่าเทียม
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