I Write Sins Not Tragedies

I sat in a pew towards the back of the church with a full view of all the guests attending my wedding, but I took no notice of them. My leg was shaking, making my whole body tremble from my own thoughts. In less than an hour I would be saying my vows to a woman I don't love. I never truly loved her, she lured me in with her irresistible looks and captivating eyes, keeping me for her own amusement. My parents fell in love with her money, not wasting any time to take advantage of it, not once thinking of my feelings.

For the past week I've stayed up all night, contemplating my future. I want to be happy with a fulfilling life, a wife to share my love with like there's no tomorrow, and kids as a result of our happiness. But that can't be my future. I need to keep my parents satisfied and proud, we all need her money, and I won't disappoint them any more than I already have.

My new future will go something like this: Long days filled with work to please my wife, spoiled children that will grow to despise me, and my parents will be too deep in their rich fantasies to notice my spiraling depression. But of course my parents come first, so today is the day I say, "I do."

There's only another half hour left until my horrid future begins, so I decide to to walk around and waste time until I have to throw my life away. As I pace the church corridor to get some water (I had promised to stay sober) I can't help but to hear an exchanging of words.

"What a beautiful wedding," says a bridesmaid to a waiter.

"Oh, yes," he agrees, "But it's a shame the poor groom's bride is a whore."

I can't believe my ears. Of course I had already known I'm not the only person she sleeps with, in fact I've even caught her in the act more than once, but to talk about her like that so openly at her own wedding is wrong. They didn't even bother to close the goddamn door.

Twenty-five minutes later I'm standing by the priest waiting for my soon-to-be wife to stroll down the aisle. But nearly ten minutes later there's still no sign of my fiancé, and I get disapproving looks from my mother and father.

Suddenly the door swings open, and we all turn, expecting the bride, but instead a man in a red blazer makes an appearance. He tugs me along with him to a storage room right by the main room.
Inside of the room I see two people all over each other, one of them wearing a wedding dress. I knew she was a whore, but to do that on our wedding day is low even for her. They left the door open as well, but I'm sure they don't care.

"Haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?" I suddenly cry out, surprising all of us.

They look over at us and she only replies with, "Sorry." and shows no emotion or regret.

"Lets look at this with a sense of poise and rationality," the man in red speaks. "Technically your marriage is saved."

I couldn't help but to agree, "Well this calls for a toast." Quickly trying to get over what I just witnessed, she isn't worth my despair.

We poured the champagne and I drank my heart out with the strange man, not daring to look at my parents hateful eyes.

I guess I will have a good future after all.