“Nothing good happens after 3 a.m.,” Michael’s best man said to me.

We stood at the bar discussing the difference between the Rhode Island bar scene (bars close at 1 a.m.) and the New York City bar scene (bars close at 4 a.m.) while college friends were scattered around us at tables and on bar stools.

“You’re either bombed out of your mind, going home with someone you won’t remember the next day…or, well, both.”

I laughed and rarely being one to make it till last call, Michael nodded along.

Around 12:30 my friends were ready to leave, so I said my goodbyes and asked Michael to take the dog out when he got home in a half hour.

At 1:30 my phone rang. It was Michael, saying that they were just leaving that bar and he was going to head back with his friends to hang out for a little while. I wasn’t upset, his best man is never in town and I knew he hadn’t had a guys night in awhile. I said goodnight, rolled over and fell asleep.

Until 2:30, when I woke up and realized he wasn’t home. After an hour of tossing and turning I looked at the clock again. 3:30. Then four. I didn’t want to be one of those girls that calls her man over and over again demanding to know where he is. I knew where he was, but this was so out of character for him that all I could imagine was his car tipped over on the side of the icy road. And really, doesn’t nothing good happen after 3 a.m.?

So I called.

“Hello?” he shouted over a clearly noisy room.

“It’s 4 a.m.”

“What?!”

“It’s 4 a.m.”

“Huh?”

“IT’S FOUR O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING!!!”

“Oh yeah, I know. I’ll be home in a little bit.”

The Crazy doesn’t come out often. As a matter of fact, she’s been lying rather dormant lately. So you can imagine my surprise when all of the sudden, there was Crazy, boiling my blood and making it impossible for me to fall back asleep until I heard him pull in just after five. I was furious. I turned my back to him as he got in bed, stinking of beer and cigars. I couldn’t sleep. I knew I was being unreasonable. He had gone out and had fun with his friends. He’s never out that late. It’s not like he was hanging out with other woman. Why was I so upset?

The alarm blared at 7:30. We were supposed to attend a service at a church we’re considering for the wedding. I knew the minute I opened my eyes that we weren’t going. Michael slammed the alarm off and mumbled “No.” into the pillow. A light bulb went off. That’s why I was mad. I anticipated it last night and then there it was. “He doesn’t care about the wedding,” The Crazy whispered in my ear.

I told her to shut up and went back to sleep.

Later that morning, still annoyed, I loaded the dishwasher with flourish, clanging each dish in with unnecessary force. Moments later Michael was behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle and whispering an apology into my ear. Not ready to give in just yet, I told him why I was mad, told him that going to the church was important to me and I feel like he disregarded it for a night of boozing.

He apologized, then told me about how much fun he had with the guys. How the night was like old times. As he described the best man riding around onΒ a lawn tractor I couldn’t help but laugh. And with the laughter came forgiveness and the banishing of The Crazy.

Hopefully she’ll stay in hiding for a very long time.

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