I just got back from my best friend's wedding. It was a breathtakingly beautiful day, mostly because the newlyweds were deeply, radiantly in love.

Yet it's not always easy to "give away" your best friend, even to an amazing man. My cup runneth over with happiness for her. But I wondered. Would things be different now?

Could I still call her at midnight to dissect the existential significance of my bangs? Would she still want to make a run to T-Bell in full pirate costumes just to see if people noticed? And what about our impromptu Justin Timberlake dance parties? Was I going to be dancing solo to JT from now on??

Because it was an Indian wedding, the bride's hands, wrists and ankles were decorated with elaborate henna designs. The groom's initials hid playfully amid the intricate swirls and Hindu goddesses. My own hands were painted in a complicated pattern of peacock feathers, symbolizing the ritual of courtship. (As if I need a peacock to remind me of crazy courting rituals!)

For those of us new to the henna thing, the bride offered a quote:

I loved that the delicate design on my hands represented new happiness. (It also represented an eye infection -- I rubbed my face before the henna dried and found myself on a date with an emergency eyewash.)

Just before the wedding ceremony began, all 250 guests walked outside to greet the groom. He entered on horseback to a lively drumbeat. Everyone – grandmothers, babies, a forklift operator from across the street – began dancing, encircling the groom and showering him with cheers and winks.

Then it was time for the bride's big entrance. I held my breath as she floated down the aisle in a stunning, jewel-encrusted sari trailed by a gorgeous black braid that nearly grazed the floor. At the very last moment, just before walking under the wedding canopy, she turned back and found my eyes. "Hi, Carrie," she mouthed, her lips sparkling in a smile.

During one of the most important moments of her life, in the middle of her wedding, she took the time to give me a shout out. That must be its own form of true love. And in that instant I knew – single or married – we would forever remain best friends.

Later, at the reception, traditional sitar music and Bollywood classics gave way to bhangra and hip hop. Around 1:00 a.m., the sweet falsetto of Mr. Timberlake vibrated through the dance floor. I felt a body near mine and glanced up, ready to tell some guy to keep out of my dance space.

Instead, I saw the bride. She gave me a quick nod and we rocked out to "Rock Your Body," grinding to the ground like the good old days.

Just then a hot groomsmen I'd been checking out wandered over and asked me for a slow dance. The bride and I collapsed into giggles. I think she actually shoved me into his arms. As I walked away with him, I looked back and mouthed "thank you." Then I caught a glimpse of my henna painted hands and heard her voice.

"Your spirit, your life, are on the brink of reaping new happiness."

I only hope that happiness includes a little JT with my BFF.