You were there, walking down the aisle, dressed in white, beautifully covered with makeup, walking with long heels, arms tangled in your father. I wish I could be the one waiting for you in the altar, but I’m not. What we had was a short affair. Still, I should thank you for loving me despite my weaknesses and mistakes. I should be the one exchanging vows with you. It should be me who will spend forever with you. But all those aspirations will never happen. Should I stay? Or should I go?