But now that the moment was actually here, I actually felt weak in the knees. Ever since that "Yes!", I had felt invincible, like nothing in the world could stop me. Now, however, I suddenly began worrying that all this was too good to be true, that I was deluding myself, that somehow everyone had colluded to play a giant prank on me and I was the only one who wasn't aware. Or maybe it was all just a dream? Basically, I couldn't believe that I had ever managed to get someone as beautiful as the woman in white now walking down the aisle towards me to ever love me.As she drew closer, the feeling of dread grew. Why was she so immaculate? Why was she so clean? There was not a spot on her, not a single fleck of semen, not a hair out of place -- at least, as far as I could tell, since her head was hidden under a shroud. A fucking shroud?? What was this, the sixteenth century? Who wears a shroud to a wedding? And why was no-one getting up to use her? Why was she allowed to walk towards the. Of course I found several addresses under that name in the phonebook, but from an article in some news site I knew the part of town they lived in. I called the only two numbers in that area, and one of them was correct, husband answered. I asked him if he was in catering, he said "yeah" and I hung up. So I knew where they lived.I have to admit, it was very exciting but also scary to go there, because the husband could've seen me in the supermarket. I knew the place they lived in because I had a friend living in the same block, so I also knew there was a coffee shop in front of their building. I would sit there for 3 mornings, waiting to see when her husband leaves. He left each morning about the same time, so I knew when I could visit her. But it was already Friday, so I should wait the weekend. But I couldn't...Come Saturday, I decided to play a trick: I borrowed an outfit from a pal who was a pizza delivery boy, called them at their house and told the husband they'd been randomly.
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