Dearest Aurelia,
It's three in the morning, and I'm the most drunk I've ever been. My clothes are soaked in what I think is my own vomit, and there's blood seeping through my shirt. My hair's a mess. My tie is crooked. But I find the courage and stupidity now to write this for you, and for that I am sorry. Only bad things can come from this letter. It's selfish of me to speak my mind, but I feel as if I owe it to God to be selfish now.
You were married a few hours ago. It was a long day for everyone. I guess I should start in the morning.
I woke up around noon in my s***ty motel room feeling like s***. The room was big enough for two people to rest comfortably, so long as they were violently opposed to movement. The sunlight shone brightly through the shattered window. An unconnected fan served as a lovely centerpiece on the stained ceiling, and the paper stuffed mattress felt almost as accommodating as a pile of hay.  This is what I woke up to, and I think that was the highlight of my day.
My uncharged phone was swamped with notifications from people trying to find me. Yours was the only name that I could read in my half sleep, so yours was the message I answered. "I'm in my s***ty motel room," I told you. You sent my best friend to come pick me up.  David Goodman showed up several minutes later with a cup of coffee and a sandwich. I was still lying down when he let himself in through the door which had no lock.
He asked if everything was okay. I replied with a yes. I smiled. He looked around and asked if I had been with a girl the night before. I had. Her name is Ariel. I don't think I shall hear from her again.
I sat up, revealing a small gash on my chest. I stepped on something sharp--a broken lamp, which probably hadn't worked intact anyway.  "Are you sure you're okay?" David asked.
I smiled again, "Everything's fine."
I showered quickly and got dressed in a fancy tuxedo--which I'm still wearing now, though admittedly less fancily. David helped me fix my hair and tie my tie.
  He said we would be late and drove us down to St. Stephen's Church where everyone was waiting. David and I found some of our friends. One of them was Luke. Someone took David away.
People told me I looked the fanciest they'd ever seen me. I laughed at their jokes. Then we were all ushered in. I got in line at the back of the church. I walked down the aisle with your sister.  She said she was excited, I smiled back.
I stood next to David at the altar, in front of the stained glass wall of Mary and Joseph. Then everyone stood, and you entered. Seeing you in such splendor made me think for a moment I could bear it, then I remembered you weren't walking down the aisle for me. 
Do you remember when we first met? It was in that church. We were six. David was there too. There was a gathering of church families outside. Some bored kid had punched me, and David Goodman threw a rock at him in retaliation. A nun had pulled us inside by our ears and made us kneel in the front of Jesus and Joseph and Mary. You were there because you didn't like the Gregorian chant they were playing as background music. You were calling it "rubbish" because you were pretending to be British that day.
If you were looking for a day when I didn't love you, you would have to go back before that moment, and even then, it would not be far enough. That was where it began, in that warm little castle that smelled like wood and felt like home. It did not look much different as it did today with candles backlighting the altar and Jesus looking down from His cross at all of us, the ones who killed Him. I asked you once what love is, and you told me it was the crucifix. You said love is self sacrifice. Maybe it is in an ideal world, but not in this one, because if all you do is give, there comes a point when you have nothing left. I guess that's why I'm writing this. This is me taking something from you.
David wrote his own vows. There's nothing I can promise you that he didn't do so himself. That's why I didn't speak up when Father asked if anyone objected.
I want even now to hate him, just as I wanted to hate him when he told me he was going to propose or when he confessed to me that he had a crush on you. But I can't. He did nothing wrong. I can't hate him for falling for you. I wish I could. It would make it so much easier. But I know you love him, and he loves you.
And then Father Halter said he could kiss you.  I didn't want to watch. But part of me thought it would be worse not to. I had hoped you'd turn to look at me then. But you didn't. Everyone was smiling, like the world was good and all was right, and I suppose it was, just not for me. I was the ninth pawn. And it hurt when you leaned in first. And it hurt when your lips touched his. And it hurt when you opened your mouth and gave him your breath. And it hurt when I blinked, and I was still alive.
Luke saw me with my somber expression and jabbed me softly on the back, laughing. "They did it." I laughed with him.
At the reception your sister spoke about true love. She said it always wins, always triumphs. Not even death can destroy it. She sounded much like you.  And then it was my turn. I opened my speech with the usual crap they say in best man speeches, but I knew the two of you deserved better than a crappy speech, so I put my paper away, and I told this story:
"When I was sixteen, I was going through a particularly horrifying time in my life. The circumstances got pretty bad, and I decided to take my own life.
"I didn't want to write a suicide letter. There were only two people I wanted to say goodbye to, so I picked up the phone and called David first. It went to voicemail. Discouraged, I told him I was sorry and to tell Aurelia that too because I was too unstable to make another phone call. Then I went upstairs, found a tie, looped it around my neck, and braced myself to kick the stool out from under my feet.
"I must've stood there for an hour, contemplating what was coming next. Then I tensed every muscle in my body, closed my eyes, and--the doorbell rang. I stayed where I was, hoping whoever it was would just go away. Then I heard, 'Open the f***ing door,' and I knew it was David.
"He used a key under the mat and rushed into my room. I was paralyzed. I just stared at him. He walked over, untied the tie, and I collapsed into his arms. He didn't bullshit me with 'it's going to be okay' or 'I understand.' He just held me together when all I wanted to do was break into pieces. Aurelia came in not long after that."
I looked at the two of you then.
"That night sucked. But you were there and made it suck less. I guess that's all I could've ever asked for."
I'll never be able to repay that debt to you or David. I had hoped that staying silent would in some small way make up for it, but I suppose I've failed in that regard.
I raised my glass. "Here's to the two of you." David was crying and smiling at the same time.
It was your first dance next as Aurelia Goodman. It was some Sinatra song. Luke leaned over and whispered, "Isn't it lovely?" He didn't hear my response. It was, "Yes. Yes she is."
Your sister asked me, "Would you like to dance?" I did, but not with her. I said yes anyway. That's all I could do, dance anyway.
I'm sorry I wrote this. You once told me that life is about telling the people you love that you love them. That was a long time ago, but I remember. And I know it's wrong to love you. But if loving you is a sin, I will gladly go to Hell. I'm sorry. Forgive me.
The next song was an ironic choice. My favorite song, a song you introduced me to. You pulled me from your sister and said, "You're dancing with me now."
I did not protest. I kept quiet, not trusting myself to speak. You looked at me with the fire of your giddy green eyes. "You are a lovely speaker."
"You are lovely period."
You laughed. We danced in the relative quiet. Absentmindedly you said, "This is the best day of my life."
"I'm lucky to have been here."
That was the last thing I ever intend to say to you.
When the song ended I hurried away and found David. "I have to go," I lied. "The hospital is calling me."
He nodded grimly, "Well I guess you gotta do what you gotta do."
And indeed that is what I'm doing here. You have tied your knot, and now I must tie mine. I want to thank you for the exquisite pleasure of loving you. I hope you and David can forgive me.
I can't know what happened after I left, but I can guess. You two celebrated your eternal union with all the people who matter most to you. At the end of it, when everyone had left, he took you to your room. He kissed you, softly at first but with increasing intensity. He unclothed you, and you, him. He found your secrets with his hands in the curves of your body. In the few moments between your kisses he whispered, "I love you." You probably said it back. And I suppose right now, as I write this, you are lying naked with him with your eyes closed and your hearts beating together to the rhythm of serenity.
I will never have that, but my hope is this: You two will have a lifetime of joy together. I wish nothing but the best for you, my love. I hope I did not take more than my share from you.

Forever yours,
The Best Man