Wedding

He's marrying her soon. It could have been you. They invited me, but should I go? Knowing the entire time I'll be crying inside, not for the wonderful, beautiful bond their love created, but because if not for him meeting her, your life could be so very different.

It's not though. I've accepted that. Lack of interest and toying with my emotions here at the homestead only makes it more tragic though. The universe gives you what you ask for... oh the irony.

One of my friends from high school is getting married. I'm happy for her. I just found out that the best man and maid of honor are going to be two of the four people who allowed me to be sexually assaulted in their apartment a few years ago. I got over the incident a long time ago. I pretty much got over the incident relatively shortly after it happened. The guy who did it is someone I don't even deem important enough to remember. But somehow I've never been able to forgive my friends who let it happen. I'm dreading having to sit in a room with them and make conversation. I never told them about it, and I feel guilty for not telling them why I hate them so much. I try to hide it, but I'm sure they can tell. They just don't know why. I feel like I should tell them, ... eventually. Eventually should not be at this wedding. I just keep having these nervous dreams about accidentally letting it strip. Slip. Freudian typo there. And that's exactly what will happen. "Oh goodness. Did I just say that your drunken buddy sat on my chest and cockslapped me while you abandoned me to go fuck in the other room? Silly me. I meant to say 'Pass the butter.'"