On Weddings and Exes. On Weddings of Exes.

and so it came to pass that I heard from a friend that he was getting married.
I didn’t believe it.
If he was getting married, I will be the first to know. We just spoke. Yesterday.
I didn’t believe it.
He was still my friend. Though an Ex.
We went our separate ways on highly amiable grounds.
I drove him to visit the girlfriend after me
I was nice and amiable like that.
And now he was getting married to her.

I didn’t believe it.

 

Why didn’t I believe it?
I had moved on. He had moved on. We had moved on.
I didn’t believe it because he did not tell me.
Why didn’t he tell me?
My disbelief did not stall the wedding
And so the deliberations began
To attend or not to attend.
What will be my excuse if I refuse to attend?
Will it mean I have not moved on?
Will it mean I’m trying to prove I have moved on?
For me to be having these thoughts, have I actually moved on?
Family. Friends. Colleagues. They know me. They knew us.
Will it be weird for all of us?
Will they wish I was The One?
Will they try to prove they have moved on from us?
Have they actually moved on from us?
Was I so inconsequential as to make them move on so quickly?
He was still my friend.
And on that note alone, I decided to go.
I didn’t believe it.
He actually got married to her.
He never told me he was getting married.
He never expected me to come for his wedding.
I made my way to the elevated platform
Head held high, a smile plastered on my face
I hugged him and wished him well. I hugged her and wished her well.
I do not know if I wished them both well.
I made my way to the wide open doors
Walking on six inch heels, as cool as a cat
Slid into my car, and drove away
Swearing by the pain in my calves
I will never, never, never, ever
Go for the wedding of an Ex
For I could never ever reliably measure
The healthy miles I had covered
In proving I had moved on.
He is still my friend. My very good friend!

 

 

 

Photo credit: Google

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