So the odd feelings just keep on coming.

Usually, I got into a state of such pathetic moping when I don’t get to see Matt everyday. You all know this. But it was as if fiancé Matt was a whole different ball game.

Now don’t get me wrong, I still love fiancé Matt as much as pre-proposal Matt. It’s just that having him around was a constant reminder that we were getting married. It made me feel kinda guilty, like I was lying right to his face. Which, ok, I guess I kinda was.

It baffled me, my reluctance to get married. I don’t have a problem with commitment - I committed myself to Mat the day I met him (cheesy but true). Marriage seemed pointless and to be honest, a bit belittling. I didn’t want to go through a divorce. Oh, it’s fine and well saying our marriage would last forever, but I’ll bet that’s what the 50-ish of married couples now getting divorced thought.

You’d think that I should be able to tell Matt my fears, right? Well you’d be wrong. Matt obviously wanted to get married, or he never would have proposed. I couldn’t just call it off like that.

Like any girl, I decided that shopping was as good a distraction as any. While Matt was on the road, I bought a wedding dress, a suit for Matt and bridesmaid dresses for Fawn and Tina. I took the initiative and bought new suits for Michael, Dave and Jeff too. I bought invitations, the flowers, the cake. I hired the band. Matt’s mother insisted we had a religious ceremony but I thought a church wedding would be hypocritical. Eventually I comprised (oh yes, I played nice diplomat) and found a minister who’d perform the ceremony in the sprawling back yard of the Anavrin mansion.

I got so immersed in planning the wedding that for merciful periods of time, I could actually forget that I was the person getting married. But then I’d open my closet and there would be my wedding dress, glaring at me.

I feel like I should take a moment to describe my wedding dress, cuz it is, despite its purpose, very beautiful. I’m quite fond of it in a wow-some-girl-would-look-pretty-in-that-just-as-long-as-it’s-not-me kind of way. It’s a white beaded and boned corset with full length white satin skirts. It’s not extravagant or anything, just gorgeous in a simple and modest way.

When Matt called, I’d fill him in on my plans with convincing enthusiasm. With every day that passed, the wedding got one day closer (duh) and I became more and more sure that it wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want to get married.

I told myself off every night after hanging up on Matt. I had countless opportunities to tell him, but every time I held my tongue. The thought of getting married was actually starting to scare me, foolish though that is. Any wedding thoughts were coupled with a sudden decrease in oxygen.

I knew it was stupid, that I was over-reacting. A twenty minute ceremony, a ring, a piece of paper, that’s all it was. But to me, it was a chance to lose Matt in an even more horrible way.

As the weeks flew past, I was beginning to move past the fear into a sense that I was making a mistake. You know, that little voice that says you really should go to your French final instead of sitting in your boyfriend’s Cadillac listening to Death Cab For Cutie. Wait a minute…

Anyway, I knew I should tell Matt, I knew he’d understand, but I just couldn’t. The words just wouldn’t happen and boy was that frustrating. I didn’t want to disappoint everybody, didn’t want Matt to start questioning the love I had for him.

So I kept quiet. I finished planning everything, including strict seating plans (keep Carla as far away from Matt as possible, at least two seats between Matt’s mother and I, and Fay was to be kept away from the bar, that little devil) and a fool proof itinerary. I didn’t get out much as a child. Shows, doesn’t it?

Anavrin were scheduled to return from their tour three days before the wedding. That allowed for alterations to suits, minor changes to seating plans and some Matt-flavoured reassurance. I was so looking forward to having the house full again, to wake up to Fay’s giggle and Matt’s smile. I had missed Matt, the sane Angel had missed her emo boy very much.

Fawn had moved into Dave’s little condo at the beach. I was worried about her, obviously. When we were in high school, I never thought Fawn would settle down. But she did and I knew she missed Hopper. One night, I invited Fawn over for a good girly chat.

“Will you ever go back to Hopper?” I asked after putting Celeste down for the night.

“I don’t know,” She replied after taking a sip of wine. “I don’t want to give up on my marriage.”

“But?”

“But Hopper was always busy and I never got to see him. Even when he was home, he was always working. In the end, we were just two people who lived in the same house,” She sighed.

“Maybe Hopper should move out here,” I suggested. “And be a house husband and let you go out and work.” Fawn laughed.

“That’s actually a good idea.”

“Yup,” I beamed, feeling like high-school Angel again.

But sadly, I was not high school Angel. I was bride-to-be Angel, mother and future wife. I would love to do what Fawn had, just take a break from everything, just up and leave…

Home sweet home.

I strolled into the mansion like I had never left, running upstairs to dump my stuff. The bedroom was just like I had left it. I was just about to turn and go back downstairs when I realised that Celeste’s crib was gone.

Frowning, I went back downstairs and into the kitchen. Fay was already raiding the fridge, and I checked to see if Angel had left me a note on the door. Sure enough, she had. I unfolded the piece of paper, smiling at the slight slant of Angel’s handwriting.

I started to laugh, which I’ll admit, was a bit strange. The whole situation was just so amusing - Angel thought I’d be heartbroken because she’d called off the wedding, when I never wanted to get married in the first place!

It was at that moment I realised how silly I had been. I should never have proposed in the first place, or at least have been honest afterwards. I had been wary of hurting Angel and now she thought she’d hurt me. I had to put things right, straight away.

Michael stood in the middle of the living room, tugging impatiently at the buckle of his belt and cursing under his breath.

"Dammit!" He hissed. "It's stuck!"

"No, you just need to kinda yank on it and..." Adam stood up and demonstrated, loosening Michael's belt with the greatest of ease. Everyone looked on, shocked and horrified. A giggle tickled Fay's lips, and he buried it in Dave's neck.

"You wouldn't think I'd never done that before, huh?" Adam quipped, sitting back down while Michael hurried, blushing, from the room.

“Dave, Fawn’s living in your old condo, right?” I asked, picking up my car keys from the coffee table.

“Yup,” Dave nodded.

“Cool. Can you guys do me a huge favour?”

“Sure Matt, anything,” Fay said.

“See the notebook beside the phone?” I pointed to the floral papered pad where Angel had neatly written out all the phone numbers of the wedding guests and all the organisations involved in the wedding. She’s scarily organised sometimes.

“Can you call all those people and tell them the wedding’s off?”

“What?!” Fay exclaimed.

“The wedding’s off,” I repeated, smiling with relief.

“You don’t seem too upset,” Adam pointed out, looking baffled.

“I’m not,” I confessed. “I’ll explain later,” I promised as I shoved my car keys into my pocket and left.

It was a beautiful day and I cruised the streets without a care in the world. Angel and I weren’t getting married and yeah, I was glad. It was stupid that things had gotten so out of hand, and I knew I’d have to be totally honest with Angel in the future.

She was sitting on the beach, gazing out of the sea, no doubt lost in thought. Just seeing her made me smile, reminded me of everything I had. I sat down beside her and took her hand in mine.

“You’re never going to believe this,” I began. She smiled, her eyes alight with innocent curiosity.

“Try me.”

“I don’t want to get married either,” I admitted with an apologetic grin.

“So you proposed because?”

“Because I wanted to offer you security,” I explained. “I thought it was what you’d want.”

“Oh.”

“Why did you say yes?”

“Because I thought it was what you’d want,” She replied with a shrug. “I guess we’re not ready to get married.”

“I guess. I should have told you sooner though, you planned everything.”

“Well, I was bored. And it was good practice.”

“For what?”

“Next time!” She winked.

I laughed, pulling her into my arms for a kiss. So Angel wasn’t going to be my wife and I didn’t mind because she’d always be so much more than that. We didn’t need to have a big day to prove we loved each other - any day of the week was just fine. I knew that I’d always be with Angel, that we had so many days ahead of us.

Or, you know, so I thought.

(A/N: And so ends Story Seven! Never fear, I have already written the first chapter of the eighth story, which I have given the unnecessarily long title of To Die Would Be An Awfully Big Adventure: The Emo Boy and His Curtain Call and will be posting it as soon as possible! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, as always)