06.03.2003 - 4:32 p.m.

I know, I know, I�ve been terrible about updating. I�ll get back into the swing of it, I promise.

Kelly and Jimmy got married on Saturday. I wanted to write something about that wedding, but wedding happened, I went back to work, I never got it done.

I gave a maid-of-honor speech. I wrote it out the night before the ceremony, but gave a different speech than I�d written. Rambled a bit, but if a reception hall isn�t a forgiving audience, I don�t know where you�d find one instead.

I think it must always be the case that the things you�ve said and done, the ones you think of as really seminal, truly important, are the same things other people forget moments after they pass. For me, that moment had nothing to do with Jim and Kelly. My moment was after the toasts, when the other bridesmaids and I mingled. We said hi to all the college friends, and I was careful to be civilized when the ex saw me. After all, the old friends have trouble with underlying tension; three years after the breakup, nobody remembers anymore whether they played shirts or skins when it first happened, so they never know how to deal with it. Separately, they�ve all asked why I stay so out of touch. Separately, they�ve pointed out that all he wants from me is to be friends again, or at least friendly. They all thought we made such good friends. Every time, I�ve said I wish I could be his friend, but the baggage is still too much. Every time I see him, I try to be normal, because if I could only be normal, those college friends could stop worrying about inviting us both to the same party.

Anyway, that seminal moment. He congratulated me on my speech, I said something modest about how I�d�ve done better if I wasn�t as nervous. He said he was glad I�d noticed that, that he wasn�t going to say anything but the last part of the speech was kind of �eh.�

And for a second I fell right back into that old pattern of wallowing in my failure, but then (in my head) I grabbed the sides of his collar and slammed his head against a nearby wall.

Outside my head, I am not sure if he saw my eyes narrow, or understood why I left the table a sentence or two later. I had to go outside to calm down. I never need that; there are few who�ve ever seen it. It was nothing less than total, unthinking reaction, and for that moment, I finally trusted it.

When we met, I thought I wanted him to change me. I don�t believe it�s fair to blame him for doing exactly as I asked. I have always believed I hurt him more than he ever hurt me, and I feel terrible for the damage I�ve done to that social group.

But I�ll be damned before I choose to talk to him again.

-stonebridge

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