It seems I’ve been to many weddings. I’ve been to a female friend’s wedding I was secretly in love with. (She even asked me to sing. Oh the torture!). I’ve accidentally spilt expensive champagne on the table (but fortunately, not on anyone’s clothes) at another lady friend’s wedding.
I’ve been to the weddings of several of my best friends, and the theme is very recognizable. I am happy for them, but sad for myself, because I know that I will no longer enjoy their friendship as much as before. I guess there is a big element of selfishness in this. There might be even a splattering of envy. But there is definitely a theme. Make that a resounding gong.
My plans for my life when I was 18 or so was to enjoy being single, but be married by the time I hit 26. When the time came, I received instead of joyous love, the first rejection and major disappointment in my life. The person I had so carefully chosen, couldn’t be mine, and I couldn’t be hers.
I plunged into a depression so deep, that I despaired of life, squandered away everything I had carefully saved, and considered suicide. My life fell apart on many levels. Much of my financial, social, and emotional success faded away. And then, to top it all, a beloved niece passed away. She was only 18.
The lesson of her death to me was invaluable. It taught me the pain of losing someone you love. It taught me to be thankful for life, and not to be selfishly willing to end it. I never imagined that I could feel such pain. But that pain was my teacher: it showed me how others would react if I were to suddenly die. The door to despair closed in my face.
Since then, I’m rebuilding my life. I find myself tempted to be bitter. I need to lighten up, to find joy again, but I am afraid to do it…the risk is great.
Every wedding I’m in stirs the cup. I hope that the next one I go to will be mine.