The Dress


I’ve had the dress since high school.

We didn’t do prom, but we had a formal dinner for the juniors and seniors every year. The juniors arranged the whole thing for the seniors, but both classes attended. There was always a theme and a corresponding play as well as delicious food. The pressure was on to find a date–and, for the girls, a dress.

I found mine at a department store. It wasn’t the typical teenage prom fare. I believe it was intended as a mother-of-the-bride dress, but I didn’t care. It’s deep brown, a-line, with long brown lace sleeves. It’s gorgeous, and I’ve always felt like a million dollars every time I wear it.

The first time I wore it, I was a junior in high school. One of my guy friends asked me to the event. He’s married now. We’re still friends.

The second time I wore it was to the same event a year later, but with a different guy. Unlike the first fellow, this one fancied me. We were friends–he wanted more. It didn’t work out.

The third time I wore it, I went to a concert on campus with a different boy. He thought loved me, but he didn’t. I figured out he didn’t love me, and we parted ways.

The the last time I wore it, I went with my adventure buddy to a play on campus. We weren’t adventure buddies yet–just friends. But I had never felt more beautiful in that dress than I did right then.

I wore it again tonight. Another concert. Another date. He’s the only one to see the dress twice–even three times. Only now he’s far more than a friend–he’s my fiancé. His ring is on my finger, and it looks fantastic against the deep brown fabric of the dress.

It’s the little things in life that bear such deep significance.


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