I remember it well, like it was five years ago today. It was snowy, cold, but throughout the blustery weather, I knew I had an appointment with...destiny.
I came home to the apartment, and I saw her...the woman with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life. She was still unconscious from the medication, so I quickly bound her arms and legs. I knocked on my across-the-hall neighbor's door...we had met him earlier that month, when he had locked himself out of his apartment...we let him go out on our balcony, climb onto the roof of our three story building, and jump into his own apartment. He was more than happy to help me (as I'd turned a blind eye to the emanating weird chemical smells from his apartment and the unusual visitors coming all hours of the night), so together, we picked up the woman of my dreams and hauled her down to my car. She just started to come to when we got to the city hall, and she was just awake enough to slur through the wedding ceremony. Boy, she had a shock when she fully regained consciousness.
No, not really. The truth is, she had to work later than I, so I was to meet her at city hall, where we would be married by the mayor...who demanded our assurances that we didn't just meet in the bars the night before. I got there about a half hour early and waited...and waited. I was, for some inexplicable reason, fairly nervous, and the future spousal unit not showing up immediately didn't help.
Finally, she came through the door, also looking fairly nervous. It seemed that she had parked out on the street, didn't see my car, and decided to wait in hers until I showed up.
Since it was finally made clear that neither of us were running away from the other, the mayor came, introduced himself, and then married us...I think his secretary was our witness. We then went to a fancy dinner and then home, where we watched High Fidelity.
Later, the spousal unit's co-workers were upset with her not telling them about the wedding "because I thought we were family." My co-workers were upset with me not telling them because they wanted a party and cake.
It's been five years. In many ways, it seems like much longer. I have problems remembering what life was like before I met my beautiful life. She still comes home to me. We still laugh. We still hold each other. I can't imagine loving anyone more than I love her.
Ah, the joys of half a decade of contractual obligation!