Twenty years ago today was the loneliest I'd ever been in my life.
I'd had my share of lonely times before that—as the youngest kid by a decent margin, maybe even more than my share. But I'd never felt anything like I felt on May 14th, 1994.
I'd been hanging out with my groomsmen, having a great time, when suddenly I was told it was time to start and I had to go wait in a backroom for the ceremony to begin.
So I'm hearing the music I picked out, played every so beautifully by a trio we'd hired, and peeking out, I can see my brothers and friends from college escorting people down the aisle and smiling and laughing and I'd never felt so isolated before, so absolutely crushingly alone.
Fortunately, just a few minutes later, my brother Jay came and kept me company, which helped considerably. And then a very, very long minute or two after that, we went and stood up at the front and the music shifted and I saw walking towards me the most gorgeous person I'd ever laid eyes upon.
And shortly thereafter we were married. And it's been twenty years and I've pretty much never been lonely since.
Thanks for choosing so poorly, love of my life.