This is a guest post by Grace Mutanu.
He left me on the altar, and for what it’s worth. I’m okay my heart is not in pain. It’s not broken. It doesn’t even hurt. He had been what I dreamt of, I mean, he was what any girl would want, not your typical tall dark and handsome. He was rounded, well built; everything nicely placed where it should be. God had surely taken his time.
He had asked me to be his girl. Before I said yes, I did every possible test that I could to ensure I was not making a wrong choice. I then said yes. Yes to this man who I had taught my heart to love, to this man with whom I had visualized my whole life with. Twenty one months into our relationship he asked me to be his wife, I was elated. I was excited. I couldn’t wait. We made all the necessary arrangements, met the parents, planned our wedding; the rings-check, cake-check, gown and suit-check, décor and catering-check. Basically everything was set. We had even successfully completed our premarital counselling and we were good to go. The big day was set, June 9th. It is a day I remember like it was just two seconds ago, every moment glued to my mind with all its nightmares haunting me.
I got ready for my big day. I ensured that my girls were ready on time. There was no time to waste. I wanted to be there on time (every bride to be knows this all too well). Nothing was going to ruin my beautiful day, by 9 o’clock we were out of the house. In 45 minutes we were in Church. If you have been to enough Kenyan weddings you know as much as I do that the bride gets there after the groom but in my case, my love was not in church. He was running late but knowing him I knew he wouldn’t be late for our big day unless something had happened. I sat in the car waiting. I asked Jules to keep calling her hubby to know how much longer they were going to be. He said, “Just give us five minutes we’ll be there.” We didn’t have to wait too long. They drove into the church and I let out a sigh of relief. I was excited. It was finally happening.
*Fast forward*
At the altar, he stood looking at me as I walked down the aisle. I bet in his heart he was saying “This is it.” He stretched his hand towards me once I got closer. I smiled as I took his hand. The congregation applauded. The preacher asked everyone to take their seat. From that point, there were a lot of things that were not very clear. It was like a blur in my mind. All I remember was seeing my love on the floor with foam around his mouth. The next thing I remember was hearing screams then because of the shock I lost consciousness.
Do you remember what I told you at the beginning of this story? Scratch that. I am in pain. My heart hurts. My love left me. He didn’t walk out of the door but death snatched him from me. He left me at the altar. It was a wedding that never was. My love left me at the altar. June 9th will be as vivid to me. I curse that day. A day meant for happiness turned into sadness, the saddest day of my life. My love left me at the altar. We had our whole life figured out. We had plans for the future. I even remember the last words he said the night befor, “Honey… I’m so excited that you are going to be my wife, my future baby mama.” He even sang me his favourite Kikuyu love song. It’s like he was oblivious of the future but aren’t we all? June 9th, he left me at the altar. Thought I should let you know. This part of my story.