If I am totally honest I am starting to lose steam a little, feeling a little discouraged. I figured it would happen at some point because I tend to ebb and flow from periods of extreme positive and somewhat negative, it’s rare I coast along on just content or happy. But that is neither here nor there cause regardless I signed up for this so I have to solider on. Today when I had chances to think about writing I thought about the use of second person point of view and how it’s not used overly often but how, at least for me, it’s super cathartic to write in. So that’s what I am going to do, with a prompt I just let fall into my own head and out my typing hands. Enjoy.
Use second person POV on an open prompt.
Through the open window you can smell the lilacs that will line the aisle you walk down, the scent surrounds and relaxes you. Within that one smell you are brought back to the summers growing up, high school proms, campus in the spring, and the day he slid the champagne pearl flanked by diamonds onto your hand as he asked you to be his. And now you can catalog this day into that scent memory.
Also on the soft wind you hear the melody of the pre-ceremony music; he had wanted a full orchestra and you wanted contemporary songs not classical so you compromised on a playlist of orchestra played modern songs. You smile and hum along to ‘Dear Prudence’ as the girls help slide you into your dress. The dress you had painstakingly searched months for. Having never been the girl that dreamed of or planned out her wedding you had no idea what you wanted. However the moment you stepped into this gown; you became that girl, crying and bouncing, and finally excited for the pomp and circumstance of a wedding.
You finger the delicately constructed lace pattern covering the bodice before flowing out just slightly and down to sweep the ground. On top you feel the light tickle of the lace as it traces over your collar bones and shoulders and when you finally catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as the last button is completed you blush. You’re beautiful and for once you’re not afraid to admit that. The fail is tucked into place at the back of your head and finally the look is complete.
Flowers, lilies spattered with lilacs of course, are pushed into your hands by your mom who is strangely keeping it together so far, you share a look and a smile before she turns to lead you out of the room. With each step more and more anticipation that fills the air is cut and by the time you reach the foyer where you wait to walk out all that is left is excited nerves. You watch as each of your bridesmaids disappears around the corner and down the aisle and sway from side to side impatiently. To your right your dad, who is not strangely not keeping it together, pats your hand and gives you a watery wink as they wave you forward.
You stare at a curtained door for a brief moment; on the other side the music changes and the murmurs can be heard dropping to anxious silence. Then the doors open and despite knowing you have almost one hundred people staring at you all you see is him, and his smile. You would swear the corners of his mouth actually stretched up to his eyes, but you’d swear the same about you. He gives you a nod and your feet move without needing the instruction; you walk to him.