It was never supposed to end like this, you know. It was supposed to be Happily Ever After, and all that other shit that Disney puts into its princess movies. Yes, even as a guy, I drank the Kool-Aid and believed all of that shit when it came to love.
I guess I should let it go – all of it happened in 2002. It bothers me to this day, though.
The morning of my wedding and I am thinking about an ex-girlfriend.
Am I fucking nuts? Am I getting cold feet? How the fuck can I be thinking of her when she was married way the fuck back in 2005. That was seven years ago, for Christ’s sakes. Should this wedding even happen?
Wait a minute. What the fuck am I saying? Of course it should happen … right? I mean, it’s the logical thing to do when you love someone and have been dating exclusively for four years.
Holy fuck. Has it been that long? Did I jump into this too quickly? Is there anyone that’s going to answer me?
“Dude, where the fuck are you,” Tim asked.
“Huh,” was all I could muster.
“It seemed like you were miles away staring at yourself in the mirror just holding your razor,” Tim said matter-of-factly.
I know that tone. I hate that tone.