Wednesday, October 24, 2007

The Separation of Church and Mate

So, this is what's going to happen
Five years from now, I'll be 25
I'm going to be somewhere not in Pennsylvania
Unless it's Philadelphia
I won't be in Scranton
but you will
Well, there or Arizona
Arid or humid?
I know you'll choose the latter
I probably won't be married because I still have ADD
and a line-up of crushes that could fill a broadsheet newspaper
You'll probably be involved
I'll still live with a roommate, but most likely alone
I'll fuck random men to fill the void
but you won't care because you won't know I still exist
I'll pass the hours writing history in action
and you'll be attempting to write the book you never publish
And then I'll get a call from your best friend
My original sin
He will ask if I will come to your wedding
And I will probably get choked up and wonder to whom
But I will still go
When I get there, I won't get lost
but I'll try
just to have an excuse not to see you happy
Hunting for parking will be a challenge I will make harder
And the entire time I'll recall the instances I tried to tell you your worth
Maybe today when you see all the people packed in pews you'll finally be convinced
I mean, there's no goddamn parking, and I've been driving seven blocks
Audis and Mercedes
When did you start associating with people like this?
When I finally enter, I see unfamiliar faces -- except your mother's
She nods and shoots a warm, tender smile in my direction
Really, I think it's out of sympathy
I secretly know she hated you when you decided I was no longer the one
Finally, the ceremony will start
I will see her come through the cherrywood doors
And I'll sigh because she's not as beautiful of a bride as you deserve
Or maybe this is what you get for making two years of my life undateable
because all I could think about was you and coffee sleeves and the gardenia-filled gazebo near the pond when you said, "This is where we'll get married."
I look at her and all I can do is fight the urge to exclaim my hate
...or my regret
For not taking you back when you asked
For dropping the goodbye cake
For ever doubting you'd wind up like this in the first place
But you look happy
and for that I feel content
I know if you look at me for one second
I will immediately feel a rush of blood to the place it counts
My heart, of course.
(But OK, maybe there, too)
But instead I will race out to beat the traffic of cars
driven by people I don't know
and probably don't want to

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