I have never participated in a wedding where I had to do everything in my power to keep from sobbing. The entire ceremony.

The thoughts of finality have been bubbling to the surface all weekend. What if he isn't the best for her? What if I had tried harder to discourage it? What if I hadn't encouraged it in the beginning? Why was I so damn eager to get her married off in the first place?

The thought of her getting married was a nice idea. Quite bearable when you are thinking about it with a faceless groom and the sweet promise of ever-after stretching before you like so much wedding tulle. But when the stark reality of someone ripping your sister away from you, eight hours away from you to be precise, actually happens. It isn't all lovely and hazy like a carefully edited wedding video.

It hurts. It makes you breathe in short, sharp gasps. It feels like a very part of your being was suddenly ripped away--never to return.

I avoided thinking about it all up until last night. Even then, I pushed it aside. As we carefully applied makeup and coiffed our hair, the finality of it began to creep upon me. As the pictures were taken and the prelude played, I become quieter and more sober. As she stood in the sunlit vestibule on the arm of our father, it hit me. She will never be just MY sister again. This is it. It's over. She isn't mine to protect anymore. And really, for a few panicked moments, I couldn't even breathe. When I was finally able to draw breath, it was choked with tears. I pressed a kiss on her cheek and told her I loved her, when all I wanted to do was weep with such sorrow and loss.

Where is the bittersweet joy that is supposed to accompany this? Why do I feel cheated? Why do I feel like someone has died?

The ceremony was beautiful and sweet. Poignant and meaningful. But it became clearer and clearer that the groom's family was gaining something and we, as the family of the bride, were losing everything. We were losing our sister, our friend, our daughter and our auntie. And what will we be getting in return? A Christmas card signed from a Mr. and Mrs. Brother-In-Law. And perhaps the occasional visit from the couple.

I have gotten past the point of hating to groom as a person. Now I just hate him for what he has taken from me. Selfish, I know. But frankly, I think it is pretty damn self-centered of him to take her eight hours away from me.

Lecture me on the joy of it all. Lecture me on my wretchedness. Lecture all you damn please.

But I can assure you all the lectures in the world do not soothe the pain of having your heart ripped out in church, wearing pearls and a dress, watching your best friend being stolen from you. Making you wonder, perhaps, the devil wears a suit and says "I do."