A beautiful union

Today was K's wedding. She was an absolutely radiant bride. Her look of happiness was none like I'd ever seen before. As she walked down the aisle to meet N at the alter, smile extending from cheek to cheek, I was brought to tears. What an emotional day, with so many memories being brought back to life.

I met K five years ago. It was our first year at law school together. As a fellow Canadian, her and I were destined to become good friends, and good friends we became. We now work together and spend most of our days gossiping about people (like Anteater and Chutney (K's boss)) and sending rude e-mails to each other. K met N at law school too. Rumour has it, they met during the first week of term, went to a pub, made out, then sealed the deal later that night. Five years later, they tied the knot. 

As happy as I was for K and N today, I couldn't help the sense of somber that came over me at times. There I was, at the wedding of K and N, with L and S also present. Often, the six of us would triple date: K and N, L and S, and me and M.

M. I thought about him a lot today. The last wedding I went to was his sister's. Back then, I was madly in love with M and he with me. I thought that every wedding we would go to from that moment on, we would go together, hand in hand. Eventually, it would be our very own wedding, and all the same, we'd be there, hand in hand. That day, at his sister's wedding, M and I were happy. We joked about his crazy uncle who could never get my name right (it's Morgan for crying out loud, not Meghan); we danced and embraced and kissed on the dance floor all night; and after I fell down a flight of stairs from having had too much to drink (and getting a fractured tail bone as a result), he took care of me. He kissed, cuddled, and asked after me well into the morning. Today, at K and N's wedding, he wasn't there to hold my hand. He wasn't there to dance with me and embrace me on the dance floor. Now, back at home, he isn't here to kiss, cuddle and ask after me (and to wipe away my tears).

It's coming up to two years since M and I broke up, and I still can't forget him. I wish I could, but I can't. Every guy I meet, everyone I date, I compare to M, and the second I realise they don't match his level of wit, intellect, looks, confidence, you name it, I lose interest. Will I ever meet another M again?

I took PJ, my best friend, as my date to the wedding and I spoke these woeful words: "I f*cked things up with M. I pushed him away. It's all my fault, and I'll spend the rest of my regretting it." I was feeling sorry for myself when I said this - I hope this isn't actually what I end up doing.

K met her M and I'm over the moon for her. They're beautiful together and I wish them a lifetime of joy and prosperity. For the time being, I'll just have to live vicariously through them ;)