It is the little things about calling off the wedding that keep sneaking up on me when I think I’ve got it all together. I surfed into my online work calendar to schedule some work for grad school and up popped the week- properly filled in for the vacation time for my now not to happen honeymoon.
Just when I think I’ve gotten off every email list, some website I browsed through shopping for wedding-related goodies will throw up a pop-up about great wedding deals.
My sister’s first wedding anniversary is rapidly approaching and she emails to let me know that they’re going away to celebrate (which they can afford to do now that they don’t have to save for a trip to Pittsburgh in October).
My cupcake baker sends a newsletter announcing their upcoming bridal open house and tasting.
Old emails finally getting deleted from my inbox about scheduling my bachelorette party with the girls from work.
Most days, I am actually pretty together about it all. I put on my stiff upper lip and walk out the door and am proud of everything I’ve done for me since calling it off- going back to grad school, making progress on my “101 in 1001” list every week, getting two poems selected for an anthology coming out in February, cooking real food, even dragging myself out of bed in the morning for work after getting sick all night every night.
But sometimes those little sneaky things pop up that remind me that I would be right in the full swing of wedding mania right now. And why I’m not. They don’t send me crashing to floor in sobs like they used to. But, they do still sting. But just a little. A sting smaller than a breadbox.
(PS- Thank you to all of you who have sent me emails in the past few weeks with health tips, invites, and kind words. My inbox is a little deep right now, to the tune of 2,000+ emails, but I am working my way through and hope to get back to you all very soon).