It's been hard today. I'm living thought it, barely but I'm at her wedding. This is HER day; my drama isn't needed.
He's here too, obviously. He looks so hot in his tux. His hair looks great. His arms look great. Everything about his is great, except he came with her. I get we aren't together anymore and haven't been for years it just seeing that damn ring around her finger makes my stomach turn.
She asks me how I'm doing when she notices me drooling over her brother like a 12 year old who's just found out he crush of 4 days likes her back. I reply to her "Dying inside," and she gives me a sad smile.
Two slow songs and a Jell-O shot later, I start hearing, and feeling but that's probably because I'm tipsy, beats. But not just any beats, it's the [italicized] beats.
"Oh no," she says "I swear I told them to take it off the list." This is the one song I asked she not play, and even though it's one of her favorites, she told me she'd oblige given the history I have with it.
*If I could face them, if I could make amends with all my shadows*
"I'm so sorry, I told the DJ to forgo this song."
Now my stomach is really turning, with hurt, sorrow, heartbreak, tequila, but mostly, un-lost love.
"I'll be fine, it's just a song." Lie. I lie because how can you tell your best friend at her wedding reception that all you can think about is her brother? Oh yeah, you don't. I'd be like one of those assholes who proposes at a wedding, I hate those assholes.
*And it echoes when I breathe, until all you see is my ghost*
She's left me now to go cuddle her now husband, and it had to be at the worst part. My cheats is rising and falling fast, my heart beating quicker than I should let it.
*And in shaking like a leaf, and they call me under, and I wither underneath, in this storm*
I feel like all eyes are on me and I feel like I'm suffocating; like someone is burning a hole into me. I hate to want to look around, only with people in this room know what this song means to me, excluding myself.
I can't hold it in anymore, I have to look, my chest is rising quicker than ever and I feel like I'm choking.
First I look to my left, hoping it's her watching over me I case I have a panic attack, but no, she's dancing with her husband and I can't help but smile at her happiness. Now I'm dreading to look right, I try and try to psych myself out of it and it's not helping, it's making it worse. 'Just do it.' A voice in my head says, 'Do it, do it,'
'Do it.'
I do. I look. What I've been dreading for the past two minutes is true, it's him. He's sitting with her. His arm around her as she giggles into him like she said something funny and thinks the giggling will help him to laugh along. He doesn't laugh along with her, he sits there with a straight face that shows no visible emotion, eyes glued to me, watching my every move. I feel like I'm suffocating.
I need to get out of here, now.
I run, not literally of course because she made all of the bridesmaids buy their own shoes, but I bolt and then mentally criticize myself for it like I've made a big scene but no one will notice in gone.
Now that I'm out of that room, I take off my 4 inch heels, they are uncomfortable as hell and a bitch price wise but the bridesmaid dresses way too long for a woman who is 5'3".
I'm in the hallway now, heels in one hand, dress in the other so I won't trip.
I start to hear footsteps. Whoever it is they shouldn't be running, I can hear the beating of the sole of the dress shoes hitting the ground and if anyone else is like me at this event, I'm returning this shit in a few days to get my money back.
They're getting closer. Oh my God, they're following me. No they aren't, get it together woman. I hate admitting to myself that I wish it was him, but I know it's not. He's made it clear the way he feels, he's engaged for fuck's sake.
I come to a stop at the corner then turn around when I hear the footsteps stop behind me. I think I feel my eyes bulge out of my head.
*And it echoes when I breathe, until all you see is my ghost*
I drop my heels. I'm actually running now. And fast.
"Wait, stop!" He yells at me.
I want to, I really want to, but I can't. I can't because I know that if I do I'll want to kiss so bad like this is some Nicholas Sparks' movie. I still love him, that's why I'm running. I can't stop because for the past 3 years I've built up a wall that he can knock down by so much as looking me in the eyes. I can't.
"Please," he says softer now that he's gotten closer.
I come to a halt. I didn't want to but I did and I am regretting it already.
"Talk to me."
"I can't," I say finally, "if I talk to you I'll cry and if I cry it'll bomb my wall and you'll have won and that is no where near a fair game to play."
All cards are off.
"I know," he says and I am surprised, "you and I both know what that song means to you, that's why you left the reception,"
He remembered? I hoped he did but a part of me is equally shocked.
"And you left your fiancé," I point out.
"I've been planning on leaving her, I shouldn't have even proposed, I'm not in love with her." Wow.
The instrumental part of the song towards the end is playing now and I feel like I've been transported back 3 1/2 years. This is when I first told him.
"I will never forget that night," he says and I feel like I will burst with his next words "we had such an amazing date that night, it was a great picnic and we listened to music for hours on end as we cloud-gazed and then star-gazed. And then this song started to play."
Here's the best part, when I told him I loved him. He seemed speechless then replied with the words I was expecting back. He told me then he'd never forget that moment it because it was the first time he's ever told anyone that he loved them.
"Like I said, I'd never forget that moment." And he meant it.
He's behind me now, leaning his head into the crock of my neck, kissing my collarbone area as he whispers sweet nothings into my ears.
This is wrong, it feels so good but it's wrong. I know what it's like to be created on and I wouldn't wish that on anyone.
"Stop," I eventually get out, "I can't - we can't do this. I don't care if you say you're going to leave her, to everyone else in the world you'll be leaving her for me and there's a word for that you know, okay? Home wrecker, okay that's the word; I refuse to be a home wrecker."
He's in front of me now, smirking in a way that's arrogant enough to to be sexy.
He kisses me, and it feels so right. His kisses are so soft yet dominant.
Then he kisses me again.
Then again.
And again.
"I love you, too, okay? I'm an asshole for what I did to you but I never stopped loving you."
