"How do I look? Am I pretty?" You ask, looking in the mirror with the beautiful white dress and the veil on.

"You look... beautiful" I say, sincerely. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and seeing you dressed in white... damn.

We've been friends since college, or should I say best friends. I can't imagine life without you, you are probably one of the most important people in my life. And... you're getting married.

You have been with your boyfriend for more than four years, and one year ago he dared to ask you to marry him, and you, much to my regret, said yes. If I could explain to you what this is like for me. Fuck, I've been in love with you since damn college and I've never dared to tell you anything, and now you're about to marry another man. I know that he is good for you, that you love him. But... do you love me? I know how we look at each other, how we have that way of understanding each other, only ours, how... how I feel like my life is going away every time I see you with him.

You asked me to come to your hotel room, to take a look at you before we went to where the ceremony was going to be held. And... damn why are you making it so difficult for me? I couldn't think another word when my mouth spoke for itself.

"Don't marry him..." I said, looking at you through the mirror.