My best friend called me Sunday night and began to speak with that squeaky, giggly in-between-the-tears voice that could only mean one thing — she had just gotten engaged.
I was generally happy for her. She deserves every bit of this happiness and she has dated what seemed like dozens of Mr. Idiot- or Mr. I Don’t Know How Great She Is-types of guys. It seems insignificant that this particular guy, her fiancé, resembles Anthony Edwards enough that I refer to him as “Goose” as he sends her meals back for her because it does not fit his standards.
Seriously, though, he is a perfectly nice guy, I guess, if anyone must take this role. She seems to have a calm over her that I haven’t seen before, which makes me think that this is the right choice for her and the rest of her life. But I just can’t help the feelings of fear for her and for myself, well, there’s a fair share of frustration, anger, resentment and just plain jealousy.
It was this girl, after all, that was experiencing a so-called “normal college life” when we met and I was deeply involved with my first true love. She was dating, and partying, and a varsity athlete — all while enrolled in an accelerated pre-med program. I was glued to the first man that ever paid me any real attention. I, too, was an athlete and through the years we shared some great memories. But this great divide always remained between us: she seemed to see the plan of her life so clearly and I fumbled over the same mistakes and wondered what the future would bring.
Luckily this friendship turned out to be stronger than any of my petty insecurities. Now she is a doctor and her fiancé is as well. Goose chose emergency medicine, which I find incredibly ironic considering Anthony Edwards starring on E.R.
But I keep the joke to myself.
Now, I am waiting to get back in touch with her so we can discuss what kind of sea foam green, puffy-sleeved frock I will be wearing at the ceremony. The date is already set: October 27.
Ten months to go over wedding plans.
Ten months to discuss travel arrangements.
Ten months before I have to make my life seem thrilling for friends I haven’t seen in years.
Ten months to get a date for my best friend’s wedding.
And the worst part is after titling this blog I have that stupid song from the movie in my head. God damn it’s a bad day.
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2 comments:
I would totally be your date, if only so I could, in slow motion, cry "nooooooooooo!" right before the declaration of husband and wife, in a scene that resembles someone taking a bullet for the President in any number of Jerry Bruckheimer movies and is this a run-on sentence or what?
I, of course, should be the last person to comment on someone else's love/happiness.
I will, however, comment on insecurity. People younger than me are buying houses. People my age are having houses built for them. I am living in a one room apartment next to a bar.
I'm totally about jealousy.
My first and maybe only true love found someone better. I'm still very much in denial about the whole thing. Then there's the crying, bitterness, rage, whatever. I can't even read a three sentence email from her about credit cards without weeping.
Some schools of Eastern thought are tell us not to run away from, justify, or manipulate these negative emotions. Just experience them. Learn about yourself by observing your own reactions. Of course, these people often eat crushed chick peas. Ew.
Well i must tell u that old saying...face life as it comes.... yes i mean it.... u can make new good friends.... who knows someone among the new may turn up to be another best.... well u can drop by My Blog sometime....and hopefully u will find something interesting...!!!
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