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She Is My Bride Today

She Is My Bride Today Today the sky woke up softer than ever before, as if even the morning light knew that something sacred was about to happen. The sun did not rise in a hurry— it unfolded gently, like a blessing whispered across the horizon. And in the quiet trembling of my heart, in the rhythm that feels too loud inside my chest, I keep repeating the same truth over and over again— She is my bride today. Not just a dream. Not just a prayer floating somewhere between hope and heaven. Not just a name I wrote in the margins of lonely nights. She is my bride today. The air feels different. Every breath tastes like gratitude. Every step feels like I am walking toward destiny itself. The walls around me echo with memories— the first smile, the first shy conversation, the first time I realized my heart had chosen her long before I understood what love truly meant. I remember the nights I spoke to God in silence, asking not for riches, not for fame, not for applause— but for her. Just her. A woman whose laughter feels like home. A woman whose eyes carry galaxies of kindness. A woman who turned my ordinary days into poetry without even trying. And now… She is my bride today. I imagine her getting ready, hands slightly trembling, surrounded by soft whispers and gentle hands. Her veil resting like a cloud upon her hair. Her heart beating just as fast as mine. Maybe she is thinking of me too— of all the promises we made in quiet corners of hope. Maybe she remembers the moments when distance tried to test us, when doubts knocked at our door, when the world felt too loud but our love felt louder. We survived those days. We survived misunderstandings. We survived fear. We survived the long waits that felt like years inside a single night. And today, every tear we ever shed has turned into pearls of joy. She is my bride today. The words feel heavy— not with burden, but with blessing. Bride. It means she chose me. It means I was worthy of her yes. It means that among millions of faces, among countless paths and possibilities, our souls recognized each other and refused to let go. I look at my hands and I realize they are no longer just mine. They are meant to protect her. To hold her. To guide her through storms. To wipe her tears before they even fall. Today I do not just gain a wife— I gain a partner in faith, a companion in struggle, a witness to my weaknesses, a mirror to my better self. She will see me tired. She will see me broken. She will see me imperfect. And still, she will choose to stay. That is what makes her my bride. I imagine the moment she walks toward me. Time will slow down. Voices will blur. The world will fade into a soft background. And there she will be— the answer to every silent dua I ever made. Her steps will be gentle, but they will shake my entire universe. When our eyes meet, there will be a thousand unspoken sentences traveling between us. “I’m here.” “I waited for you.” “We made it.” I will want to tell her everything at once— how beautiful she looks, how grateful I am, how scared I was of losing her, how much I love her. But maybe I will just smile, because sometimes love is too big for words. She is my bride today. The phrase feels like a crown upon my head, like a responsibility wrapped in silk. I promise in my heart— before any official vows are spoken— that I will never let her feel alone. That her dreams will matter to me. That her tears will matter to me. That her silence will matter to me. I will not be perfect. I will make mistakes. But I will never stop choosing her. Every morning, even when life becomes ordinary, even when romance becomes routine, even when we argue over small things— I will remember this day. The day she became my bride. The day I realized love is not fireworks, but foundation. Not noise, but commitment. Not just passion, but patience. I see our future stretching ahead— small home. Shared meals. Late-night conversations. Laughing over nothing. Holding hands during difficult times. Maybe children running through hallways. Maybe quiet evenings with tea and tired smiles. Maybe gray hair and wrinkled hands still reaching for each other. And one day, when people ask me about love, I will not give them a lecture. I will simply point to her and say— “She has been my bride since that day, and she still is.” Because being a bride is not just about today. It is about forever. She is my bride today— and tomorrow she will be my strength. And the day after, my comfort. And in every season, my choice. If storms come, we will face them together. If blessings pour down, we will thank God together. Our hands will remain linked through ease and hardship, through success and struggle, through youth and age. Tonight, when the celebrations quiet down, when the guests leave, when the lights grow softer— we will sit together in the gentle silence of a new beginning. And I will look at her not as a dream anymore, but as reality. I will whisper softly— “ your heart rests