The wedding countdown 2 - All of me loves all of you

So then there are these pre-wedding exertions. Well, like I've told you earlier, I was on top of my game since I started planning even before the wedding date was fixed. That's just me. Overboard every time. Either too far ahead or too far behind. And while I'd done the organizing part pretty efficiently, there were some things that I had been procrastinating for way too long.

You're not going to be getting married everyday! How hard can it be to keep your beauty appointments? My beautician and friend had chided me. I haven't seen worse skin on any bride-to-be two weeks from her wedding.  If that could have shattered my confidence, I would have been a whole different person in the first place. But then, I am just me.

There I was standing, nervously clicking the nails on my thumb and forefinger together, trying to get through the shame of not caring two hoots about my acne. Yes. I have acne at 31. It wasn't really embarrassing, till right about then when I was being scrutinized from head to toe by the beautician in a desperate attempt to figure out what to do with me.

He quickly ordered a specialized facial. You'll look much better after this. He promised.

Then there were the ugly warts. Well, they had attained identities of their own. My sister called them aliens because they were so big and obvious. But I really did not see the connection there. However, I was determined to get them removed now. I felt like it was now or never. There was no better reason than now to get rid of them.

What's your pain threshold? The doctor had asked me.

Zero. Was my reply. But then I was quick to ask. How long will they take to heal? I am getting married in two weeks.

 The doctor looked at me incredulously. And you're coming to me now! You know there will be scars left. She warned.

Aha! That was a concern I was prepared to tackle. They couldn't be worse than the warts. I said.

The doctor looked at me as if she was taken aback, but then quickly collected herself. Well then, let's prep for the procedure.

At the end of the procedure I was pretty pleased with myself for not having screamed like a mad woman.

Later that evening I was talking to my fiance and told him that I'd gotten rid of the warts.

What! Why! You know you did not have to do that. I love you. All of you. Even your warts! He said fearing that I was bending too far over backwards to fit into the image of the perfect bride.

Did you have names for them? I asked.

What? He said, and I could sense his utter confusion even over the phone.

You did not have names for them. That means that you did not love them that much. I said casually. It wouldn't really break your heart if I got rid of them.

 I heard a hearty laugh from the other side and hoped that he'd soon forget about it and not use this to tease me about in the future.

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