Saturday, May 21, 2011

exit 328, Kaysville.

I went to a wedding tonight.

I was supposed to have a wedding once.

We had planned it:
there were going to be purple tablecloths and cream puffs
and all of my friends and family were gonna be there
Aunt Holly was flying in from Maryland
and Scott got legally ordained so he could marry us

we were going to dance to Tom Waits' "Closing Time"
and I was gonna have a big Dr. Pepper and wear a gray suit
Wayne, Tim, and Nic were gonna play bluegrass
I was gonna bring a bunch of azaleas
and then it all came crashing down.

I've been cheated on more than the LSAT
and lied to more than the IRS
but the most taxing (ho, ho) part of all of it:
seeing things so close to what I thought I had
and getting those reminders that,
these people have it.

And good for them. I don't begrudge them that.
I'm glad for them, and no one could possibly deserve it more.

I've wanted to get married since I was four years old.
Now I'm 26. And that's not old.
I know that.
But driving the nearly two hours home
(a car wreck bottlenecked freeway traffic)
just made me think of what I was coming home to:

When I was engaged, a close friend bought me a bottle of scotch.
I've kept it hidden.
I did some research and learned that it cost him over $200
it's old enough to rent a car
every night when I feel like this,
I wonder if I should open it.

I bought some fast food and antacids
and I'll finish them both off tonight
because Hidden Scotch deserves better than tonight.
tonight is ignominious and exhausted
so I'll watch something with Orson Welles

and I'll wonder to myself
what we would've danced to at our wedding
and how you'd look
throwing back a bouquet of azaleas.

even though I'm so glad we didn't get married
and after the fires you lit burned us to the ground
leaving me to sweep up the ashes
I'm not too proud to admit
that some nights it sounds worth it.

but give me an hour.
I'm sure it'll fade.

most things do.


Anonymous said...

Me, A Man, Then Jim by Rilo Kiley. Do you know it?

Anonymous said...

This makes me sad for you because you are hurting. Happy for you because it would have hurt more to marry someone who was a liar and cheat. Thrilled for you, because when you find that perfect girl you will think all these low times were nothing. I promise you that.

Jennif said...

beautiful. and heartbreaking. you are a phenomenal man, Andy.