A Wedding

This is the first year in many years that I didn't have to attend any weddings. No close friends getting married. No Macy's registries to search. No guilt-laden wedding invitations requesting replies. Except for one. From The Boy who was the One, marrying the girl who is his One. Way out in the boonies, clear across the continent, joined in holy matrimony today.

There is no sadness for me, just nostalgia for what seemed like a lifetime ago. Was it only a few years ago when Miss FlipFlops and I, single and carefree, venturing to NYC for New Years, mooned over our Could Be's? When I scared Miss Flops out of the bathroom because I started screaming in the apartment for joy when I got a voicemail from the Boy, "just calling to see how the vacation was going and wishing me a good time and Happy holidays?" Was it only two years ago when I sat on the floor of my living room, crying nearly every night for a week, sporadically for a month, because my chest physically hurt so much, too immersed in sadness to even call a friend for comfort because I didn't want to scare them at the lowest times?

I don't feel connected to that person anymore. That person, meaning the freshly broken me. That person, also meaning the boy who so selfishly toyed with my affections and friendship. I'm sure I'll still hear from him from time to time, mass email updates, news from our mutual friends, big event type stuff like when they buy their house and get settled in BF Nowhere, have the first of their many kids, or come back in town to visit.

I came across a book the other day that I wanted to lend him, knowing that he'd enjoy it. But I flashed back to the present and realized that physically and mentally, he's not here anymore. So I put the thought away and continued my book in peace.