The summer of 1999 was full of weddings, the first of which was the marriage of Patrick and Diane. It had been a relatively short engagement, and the wedding was in May of that year. Diane had been busy making last minute plans for the ceremony, but we still found time to hang out and relax a little, something she may have needed mor than I could know. About a week before the wedding, Diane and I were in my apartment watching TV, relaxing, and having out usual philosophical discussions about life. Out of nowhere Diane came out with a question that really knocked me on my ass.
"Should I go ahead with the wedding?"
I was taken aback; I didn't know how to respond to that. I had known Patrick for much longer than I knew Diane, and in the past I knew him to be a bit of a philanderer, but he was generally a good guy. As time marched on, I had become much closer to Diane than I ever was to Patrick. I didn't know where to put my conflicting loyalties. Did I think she should marry him? I didn't know. I assumed everything was good between them, but I didn't know for sure. The fact that she was asking me this was an indication that maybe all was not as good as it seemed. I told her that it was her decision and that I couldn't really tell her what to do either way. Needless to say, she went ahead with it.
The wedding was a small and strange affair. Aside from Patrick and Diane, I was there as the best man, and Diane's sister Marla was the maid of honour. No one else was there. No family was invited; the church was empty. At the time I thought it was strange, but I quickly shrugged it off. They went on their honeymoon to a resort in Mexico, but they didn't seem to act as couples usually do after a romantic honeymoon; they just acted as if they had already been married forever, with none of the usual 'new marriage' excitement.
As the summer went on, Diane and I continued to hang out a lot; nothing really changed between us after the marriage. During that summer of matrimony, we went to a total of four more weddings. The night of the fourth wedding, after the ceremony, Diane seemed to have come down with something and had decided to opt out of the reception and head home. Befor the reception, the rest of us went back to the apartment building, and I decided to bring her over a book, Clive Barker's Thief of Always, and a can of chicken noodle soup, and then I left with the others to head to the reception.
I didn't find the reception was as much fun as usual, mostly due to Diane's absence. There was joking, drinking, and all-around fun, but I found myself sitting alone for a good part of the night, wondering if Diane was okay. The party ended late, and we didn't get back to the Brock until about 2 a.m. I waved goodbye to Patrick and went into my apartment. Thom was still out with some friends of his so I had the place to myself and it was eerily quiet. I slumped onto the couch and clicked on the TV, and through very lazy eyes, took in an episode of Law & Order. As my eyelids became heavier and heavier, through the weariness of my vision I saw a book on the table in front of me. I forced my eyelids back open and tried to focus. It was the Thief of Always that I had just lent to Diane earlier in the evening. I smiled; she must have felt well enough at some point to make the effort to bring it back to my apartment, which was great. I picked up the book, shut off the TV, and headed to my beckoning bed. Once I was in my room, I reached over to put the book on my dresser when I noticed a wad of paper hanging out of the book, sandwiched between the pages. I didn't remember leaving anything in the book when I brought it to Diane, so I grasped the paper and pulled it out. It was sketchpad paper, folded over several times. I unfolded it and glanced at the first line handwritten on the note:
First of all, I love you with all my heart.
I stopped and looked up into nothing. My heart jumped and I was instantly panicked. I looked around the room to see if I was being watched--which was ridiculous, I know--but it seemed logical at the time. Was this some sort of joke? I opened the note back up and continued to read.
The note went on to say that she had realized that she shouldn't have gone through with her marriage, that she had known all along that it was a mistake, but had given in to pressure from herself as well as both of the families involved. She said the reason there were no family members invited to the wedding was really just to minimize the importance of the day in her own mind. She also said the honeymoon was horrible and her and Patrick had fought the entire time, and that she had cried during the entire flight home. She had just recently admitted to herself that she was really in love with me, but that it was not the reason for the second thoughts about her marriage. The thoughts just happened to come to light at the same time. I really couldn't believe what I was reading, but at the same time, a switch flicked on inside my head and I finally admitted to myself that I felt the same way about her. I stayed up that entire night, reading the note over and over again. The next day at work, on my lunch break, I picked up the phone to call Diane. I had to let her know I felt the same way, and that we would get through this mess together.
