Of Course You Didn't Want to Go Through With The Wedding - Who Does?

Hey, Runaway Bride! You think I wanted to go through with my wedding ceremony? Hell, no! My wedding day found me sitting on the floor of a rented condo, in my gown, eating brownies, drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade, and waivering between catatonic and hysterical, while my Matron of Honor -- a feisty Southern chick -- convinced me I really wanted to get married.

I loved the guy, and did not want to humiliate him in front of his whole family -- let alone the world -- so I wiped the crumbs off the corner of my mouth, careful not to mess up the make-up, and I went and got married.

If I was not going thorough with it there would have been ample time to call the thing off. I would have done it somewhere in the many proceeding months -- call me crazy.

Now I know the thing escalated beyond anticipation after the running away part. Who expected all the search parties, and the CNN, and the... er, hoopla? But why not call at the first sign that this was snowballing?

I'm not even really busting your chops -- you have to live with the shame and embarrassment, and even the post traumatic stress every time a certain Julia Roberts/Richard Gere movie is mentioned.

I guess the guy is sticking by you, and from the outside looking in, he seems like a keeper since you sorta/kinda made him look like Cletus The Local Yokel in front of everyone -- and I do mean everyone.

I'm just saying -- would it not have been easier to have just done it it my way? (Get married while 1.5 sheets to the wind and tasting like chocolate and lemons?)