Final Musings of a Bachelor

This prompt is super specific: "Write for 10 minutes about what is running through a husband-to-be's mind while his wife-to-be is walking down the aisle to the altar where he stands."

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She looks gorgeous.  Of course she looks gorgeous, dummy, could you be any more cliché?  That's a lot of beady-things on the top of her dress... I'll bet she sat in her room and counted them all this morning.  I would have.  What else could she have to do today, right?

Oh gawd, why did we have to do an outdoor ceremony?  I can feel the sweat between my shoulder blades right now.  It's only April, why the blazes is it this hot?  Is anyone else sweating like a hog?  Is she sweating?  Of course she's not, she's perfect.  They must make anti-sweating makeup.  That's it.  I should have bought some.  But who knew it was going to be this darned hot?

No one's looking at me, right?  They're all looking at her.  No one cares I'm sweating.  No one cares how red my face is.  They'll care if I keel over, though, and I think I might.  Oh gawd.  Don't keel over, Mike.  Unlock your knees.  They say locking your knees will make you faint, like you did at that Christmas pageant when you were eight.

She's smiling at me.  Quick, smile back!  No, not that big, you're just grinning like a fool!  There, nice closed-mouth smile... or does she think that's not happy enough?  Not enthusiastic enough?  Should I show my teeth?  Is the photographer getting this?  I think I saw a flash.  Gawd, I hope they throw that one out.  I'm sure it looks terrible.  I'm sweating and practically panting and she looks so good and I don't and I'm dizzy and my knees are still locked.

I think I forgot how to unlock them.  I don't want to look like I'm squatting.  How long has she been walking?  I've been waiting up here for at least four hours now.  I should sign at her to walk faster.  No, that'll look pushy.  But I might not still be conscious if she doesn't hurry...

The sun is so stinking bright... and she did go with that pure white dress, not the ivory one.  It's so reflective!  Jeezus, what's it made of, tin foil?  I can't see anything else.  I guess I'm not supposed to, right?

Oh gawd, I can't see anything at all.  Ow.  Oh, that's a potted plant there.  Wait.  Why's there a potted plant in front of my face, it was by my foot a second ago.  Umm.  I'll just stay still.  Maybe they won't notice?

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So there's ten minutes, stream-of-consciousness style.  Enjoy, I suppose.