I wrote a short story for this entry. It was either that or rambling about how I still haven’t written my novel yet.
The problem with weddings was that each one I attended seemed to come with an extra layer of drama. Whether that was due to the abundance of pre-wedding cocktail, I didn’t know. This wedding was no different. For one, I was here reluctantly. The groom was my ex-boyfriend and the bride was my ex-best friend. A better person than me would have RSVP’d with ‘go to hell‘ but I was always the nice one in our group.
Plus, it was a small town and my mom was catering for the wedding. I was more or less obligated to be here. So, I decided to just sit there as suffer through it. Once the reception was over, I would go back to ignoring both of them.
Naturally, things took a drastic turn after the ceremony had begun.
The trouble started with the wedding vows. The groom read out his lines. Well, most of his lines. He stumbled on the last line and I automatically finished it for him.
“Most of all, I promise to cherish you now and forevermore,” I said without thinking.
Everyone’s eyes turned towards me and I realised that I’d fucked up somehow. The thing is that, the groom was lazy. Recycling vows from our non-wedding was the kind of thing that he’d do. Instead of getting up and running away like a nromal person, I sat there and fiddled with my purse. Eventually, the bride laughed nervously and started to read her vows. It was disastrous. She was tripping over her words the way she did when she got upset. I caught her looking at me and I turned away. The old me would have encouraged her silently via exaggerated facial expressions, but the new me was just desperate for a vodka and coke. Listening to the groom read out the vows he wrote for me was messing with my head.
I was fairly certain that wasn’t normal.
The bride seemed to feel the same way because she finally decided to confront me and said, “Why are you even here? He dumped you!”
Now, given that this girl had been my best friend for ten years, I was aware that she was just projecting. However, I had my personal pride and the receipt for the two hundred and fifty dollars I’d paid for this dress. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“I was invited,” I said simply, because it was a fact. I’d received a tacky invitation in the post and even though I’d ripped it into shreds, it was still valid.
She placed her hands on her hips, as well as she could under what seemed to be fifty layers of chiffon. I made a mental note to run away from any wedding dresses that looked like hers in the future.
“By who?” she demanded to know.
“By me,” the groom said, eliciting a chorus of gasps from the guests. He turned to the bride and grabbed her arm. “Babe, she’s our friend.”
I cleared my throat because I was definitely not their friend. If anything, I was their enemy. If I’d revealed half of what I discovered after my break up, none of us would be here. Perhaps I should have come clean but it wasn’t my place.
“She’s not our friend,” the bride snapped. And then she took a step toward the rows of seats and fell. It was like watching a snow ball descending in slow motion and she landed with a heavy thud. The gasps were even more horrified this time around and her father and brothers rushed to her aid while the love of her life stood there with a gormless expression on his face.
“Seeing as I’m not your friend, I won’t tell you about other women,” I snapped because apparently I was done being nice.
“Women?” The mother of the groom repeated warily. She’d been here before, I’d heard the stories. Much like my friend, I’d believed that I would be the one to change him. More fool me.
“Yes,” I said almost gleefully. “All four of them.”
The gasps sounded again, and it would have been comical if if wasn’t so sad.
“Hey, not cool, man,” the groom said to me angrily. That he still spoke like some kind of ridiculous frat boy was the icing on the bullet I’d dodged.
Maybe my ex-best friend would save herself from the upcoming avalanche, but I found that I didn’t particularly care anymore.
At that point, I decided that maybe it was in my best interest to leave. I stood up, smoothened out my green dress and made my way down the aisle. It took every ounce of concentration I had not to topple over in my heels, but I managed it. I could feel people staring at me but I held my head up high and ignored them.
When I reached the entryway, I looked back to see the bride attacking the groom with one of her delicate white shoes, all while he stood there and uttered the same excuses he made when I’d caught the two of them together.
Karma really was a bitch.
I am not a fan of wedding (beyond the free drink and food, lol) because they seem like a lot of work. People go to extravagant lengths and waste so much money on one day and I don’t really get it. You can have a nice wedding without breaking the bank.
Anyway, I suppose my apathy is down to the fact that I don’t really think about it. I’m not one of those girls that’s planned their dream wedding. My dream house, yes. Wedding, no. I could be that girl thanks to Pinterest, but I avoid it like the plague.
Don’t even get me started on celebrity weddings, and how they make sure each detail is conveniently splashed over magazine pages. It’s not like they pay for these things outright, but then regular people get the idea to spend above their station and it just spirals.
I like the idea of beach weddings, but not the sand, so yeah, I don’t know that works. I remember there being one on a Real Housewives episode and they were all worried that they’d be blown away by the mother of all storms. So, yeah, scratch that. No beach wedding for me. What about a spaceship themed wedding? I bet some odd people have done that already.
Anyway, that’s all I have to ramble about for now.