I never thought I was a bitter person. Not really anyway. I was sure I had my emotions in check and yet, here I was with a bat in my hand, getting ready to swing full force.
We'd been friends for years, almost a decade. We'd been through so much together; dances, dates, family drama, cheaters, rock concerts, graduation. We had some of the best of times and some of the worst. I had always considered her to be one of my best friends, one of the better friends anyone could have. Between all our inside jokes and random good times, I had assumed we would be some of those friends who are always just that. Where we'd grow old in an old person's home and whack each other with canes and and ram our wheelchairs together.
As it turns out, I was wrong.
The reception was a drag. Not just a drag, but a disaster. I had never felt so out of place in my entire life. As I sat there at the table with all my old high school friends, every one of them talked about how delicious the food was at the luncheon, how funny the toast was and all the awkward things their parents said about their children. Normally, I would laugh and join in on this kind of thing. But that's a little difficult when you weren't invited to the luncheon.
I probably shouldn't have cared, honestly. But I couldn't help it. I was bitter. I hadn't seen my fiance in a year since he was overseas. And this friend not only met this guy within the last 8 months, she was not married to him to. Something I have been waiting for in anticipation for over 2 years. It just wasn't fair.
And so here I was, swinging my bat as hard as I could to take out the lights on their new Chevy. Good thing her new husband is car guy.
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