The Wedding

I have a wedding coming up in my life. d

From one of my oldest friends.

SElfishness says stay home and pout about life of being single and without the love of your life.

Isn't that pain enough without parading out once and facing reality? d

Reality is, people go on and marry second's or third's or they snag their first's on some blind, rare ugly twist of fate. d

Lacey says crawl deeper underneath the covers and pout about how life didn't turn out the way she wanted. No one will notice I didn't go except the bride.

I already have her prepared that I might still be "too ill." d

Can't it be a day about the bride?

NO. d. It's a day about me and my singledom. The invitation is made out to "Lacey & Guest."

I have a guest. I could ask Joseph or even maybe Lucky. 9.

NO. This is about the split in my brain, about the trauma, about being in a room of happy people or people pretending to be happy about another person's happiness--the best day of her life. Me, I'm in the room holding my brain together like this--trying to keep the split from tearing me in two over a man who is not my guest, only my visitor, my ghost. d. I can see her, the bride, coming at me with a large smile, and I have nothing but the split to dealt with.

People play with the word broken heart, and they draw it with a split in the middle, but they don't know. Their hands never run away with them, and they don't call disconnected numbers in the middle of the night thinking that the delusional process will magically phone their loved one.

I know splitted hearts this coming fall season, and I'm supposed to show up to a wedding with a guest?

9.