This isn’t the event of the year, so you don’t get to cry over it.

Never has anyone been more pissed

Than your narcissistic family and that one problematic childhood friend

When you announce your wedding plans instead of asking their permission

My aunt has excommunicated me

Because the wedding is in April

And she’s out of town that week

I offered to change the month of the reception

But not the year-and she’s still fuming

Let me be clear: I am only having this wedding

For the benefit of my husband

And his family, who have never

( Not once!) excommunicated him

My dress will be simple

the food will be sufficiently sparse

The people who are no longer invited

Can keep their goddamn fuss

It wont be a who’s who

Of who hasn’t spoken to each other in years

There won’t be passive aggressive comments

About what is too flashy or not flashy enough

There’ll just be clean, white linens

And an open bar

For the people who don’t get nasty

When they get drunk

It’s just two people in the wedding party

Being sure and sweet

In their commitment to each other

Because that’s all that this day

Is supposed to mean

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