The reason I called so many times that day? knowing your cellphone was off. Knowing you had set the date wrong; that you had slept in. That it wasn't important to you to attend our friends wedding?
Loneliness. Not so much so that I wanted you to see me in a dress, or that I liked you so much, but loneliness. I am an alien. And you so knowledgeable of the world always made me feel comfortable. I barely knew the groom, much less his family, the bride was a good friend but not the best, no, though at the time we thought we where. Her parents always made me feel judged, and I couldn't relate to her sisters, somehow I was there, I thought you would be too, but you never came.
Somehow that anxiety of that moment came back to me today. And I remembered you.
I hardly think of you anymore, but when I find myself wishing for intelligent conversation trails of your pompous voice and reflections of your smirk make their way back to me. Then I remember how upsetting it was to find out what you really thought of me. And the value of your memory diminishes. I don't wish you any ill, but maybe that you go to make yourself a pot of coffee and find that your wife drank the last cup.
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