|
She called him "buddy". He was the man who she had said the words "all the drama and bad shit that happened to me is all worth it because without it all - I would not have met you."
then, she cheated on him and wrecked his world and resented him for having his car in the driveway when she just wanted to sit around and smoke weed and feel tremendously sorry for her own failure to launch. She remembered with #2 that realization "oh shit, I'm feeling the same resentful way about him that I felt about mark - how can I fix this." the way she fixed that was not by cheating and departing the marriage but by following him around after turning him into a symbol living of her fucking asshole father and yelling at him for all the things daddy had done. Andy was a non-patient proxy for sure. He was also a shitty buddy. His version of being in a relationship was coming home and no verbal complaining - no verbal communication whatsoever without being coerced. His specialty was non-verbal passive aggressive communication. He screamed that at her "I'm disappointed."
Well, so I was I but we live our lives and life lives through us. It was a total hoot to meet a Faust at the wedding. She got to flirt with a 27-year old lawyer and an 80+ retired lawyer and a 30-something waiter. It was heady. She'll cry as she types this but it was beyond humbling and wonderful to imagine that someone might enjoy being with her instead of knowing that she's some disappointing time-bomb.
The tears dribble out for that one.
The next calendar event was some strange friend who she's invited for a tour of her home for five minutes now eight years later flying in to spend three days. It was terrifying, but narcissi hoped she wouldn't put the fake on. It was a gift but a challenge to "be herself". Oh, and there was no television. And it was supposed to be a wet November, and this guest had many many eating restrictions. It's so much easier when it's a drinking buddy.
and the wedding was beautiful. It was perfect and so very rich. She even stayed in a beachfront home of a billionaire who owned a sport team.
It was lonely as hell - everyone else having a date. She was a fifth wheel. And always always always always reminding herself that this was the grave she herself had dug so lie the fuck in it bitch. It was hard not to squirm in the grave though. She missed her buddy.
|
