Everything here is wrong.

The dress. It’s eggshell white, with sleeves because who wants to see tattoos at a wedding?

The shoes. They're uncomfortable because they’re too close to the ground. The heel is small and presses into my heel.

The veil. It’s crooked and short because my dress has details that should show in the back, so it couldn’t be long like I wanted.

I’m staring at myself, on what’s supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I’m 25. I’ve got a job at a wonderful law firm and everyone is so happy for me.

Everyone is happy for me except me.

I’m staring at my reflection and I do not recognize myself for the first time in God knows how long. I’m starting to think I truly haven’t felt like myself in months.

Everything is coming to a head now, thirty minutes before I’m supposed to walk down the aisle and marry a great guy.

He is great. On paper.

He’s charming. Smiles brightly and holds my hand most days.

He’s smart. He buys me flowers and he makes dinner every Friday.

I should be happy.

But this isn’t right.

There’s something off. There has been for months. Ever since he surprised me with a proposal that we didn’t talk about with a ring that was a size too small and in front of basically his entire family and mine.

I should've said no.

I say that in my head because if I say it out loud, someone will hear me and I’ll ruin the day. I can’t ruin the day.

It’s paid for, everyone is here. My mom just finished her hair. My dad is going over his speech again. My siblings are wrangling their children and I should have said no.

I swallow and everything around me seems to get drowned out as I close my eyes.

I can’t do this. I know I can’t. I was going to try and take deep breaths, smile, and get through this but that is not realistic.

This is the rest of my life. My entire life and I can’t be wrong about this.

All three of my older siblings got married at 25 and they each take turns being miserable.

I don’t want their lives. I don’t want the two-story house, three kids, Loud Christmas, sober New Years, sticky everywhere you sit life they have.

I didn’t even want to be a lawyer.

I open my eyes and see my mom taking a picture with my sister.

I see my dad straightening my brother's tie.

I see my cousins all lining up.

I see my best friend as she stares at me.

She’s my maid of honor. My best friend since high school, the last of the real ones that I have.

I blink twice at her and she’s up and in front of me.

I take a deep shuddering breath as she hands me my bouquet of the wrong kind of flowers.

“How do I look?” I ask. I know my voice is shaking.

She looks at me in the mirror, her brows furrowed.

“Like you want to throw up.” She says quiet enough for me to hear.

I turn to look at her. Tears welled in my eyes from somebody finally noticing that all of this was wrong.

She gives me a sympathetic smile, her hand on my shoulder.

“I have an idea,” She starts.

I just nod because if I speak, I’ll cry.

“That publishing job in New York. My condo with the room with the nice view of the city. Maybe an emotional support dog. Me and you.” She finishes.

I want it. I want it all. All of that sounds completely right. It’s not on schedule, I’m not supposed to do it but I’m going to.

She holds out her hand, her other hand holding up her car keys and the tiny purse my mother-in-law forced everyone to carry, and smiles.

It’s so reassuring.

I set my flowers down carefully and quietly and we tip-toe out of the room before making a break for it at the back door.

She stops for a second, letting go of my hand to run and pick up a bottle of the expensive champagne he insisted we needed from a table before taking my hand again and we run off.

We make it to her car and are driving off when her phone starts to ring.

It’s my mom.

She cuts it off, throwing it in the backseat and stepping on the gas.

She’s got all my stuff from the hotel and hers already packed up in the backseat and at a stop light, she pulls out two plane tickets.

“Paper. So we can turn our phones off till we get there safely.”

How grateful am I for her?

I hug her tightly, unwrapping the champagne bottle and taking a big swig.

She laughs, driving off on a green light and driving us into a new life.

One that’s not wrong.