Ever since our little visit to the lake, I have developed a new respect for Aron as a sensible human being. In all these years I have met all sorts of people who react to my decision of running away from my wedding in all sorts of ways. I’ve met the scolders, the weepers, the sneerers, gossip traders, blamers, the nasty sarcastic commentators and even the intolerable justifiers. The one thing that they all had in common was the looming inquiry of ‘why’.
Why I never showed up at my own wedding. Why I left my childhood sweetheart at the altar. Why I lead everyone on to believe that I wanted to get married when I had no intention of going through with it.
The ‘why’ always hangs in the air, if not in those particular words then in some other form. Sometimes in form of suggestions; sometime
