In a foggy 5am haze I watched one of my best friends get married in America this morning. Another one of my good friends had the duty of holding me, carrying me, pointing me in the direction of interest, talking to me, making sure I was still there. Thousands of miles away, through choppy reception I saw friends I hadn't seen in years, people I grew up with. I couldn't talk to them, could just barely hear them and make out their waving hands and those of their significant others that I was meeting for the first time in such a strange manner. And then it was time for the wedding to begin, so everyone sat down, including me by proxy. And I watched Amy get married. I couldn't really hear anything that anyone said, but I could feel the significance. Body language, tone, response of those present–understanding in other ways. She was crying, they were both excited and nervous, happy and light-hearted.
The ceremony ended and my phone holding friend, my portal to this world, said a few words and some from another friend and then goodbye. They would be going on to the reception and party. He thought he'd hung up but something went wrong. The screen froze I could still hear their voices echoing and continuing our last exchanges. "Yeah, even I sometimes cry at weddings."
And then it faded out.