[ WP ] at wedding of the woman you love , and you 're the best man .

A free bird ca n't be caged, that's what they say. And how could I try, with her spirit so wild and her heart so free? I was not like that though. Mine belonged to her solely. 
 
 So there I was in the chapel, in full uniform - not the uniform I was used to, but a uniform nonetheless - today I traded my fatigues for a tuxedo. I must have been the best dressed man in the room, save for the groom. Even though we saw the same barber, his freshly cropped hair even looked straighter and cleaner than mine. 
 
 I know it's traditional for the best man to stand, but it would be another few months, or maybe more, of physical therapy before I could do so of my own strength again, if ever. But I could not abandon my post, so there I sat, in the shadow of the groom, ring in my breast pocket, dressed to the nines. 
 
 All went pretty much as expected. I handed the ring over, and I watched her willingly and with joy take the golden and diamond-bejeweled shackle onto her finger. A free bird ca n't be caged, huh. Well, so much for that. I answered the call, and I did my duty. It was the hardest service I had ever performed. 
 
 After the tedious pageantry drew to a close, a simple salute served to part ways with the groom. Semper fi, brother.
