(Incidental Opening Music: "Cupid's Trick," Elliot Smith)
The wedding was nice. The site was picturesque, as I mentioned. Everything went according to plan (outside of it being too windy to light the "unity candle").
Five attendants per side. I was the only single (as in, unmarried and non-seriously-dating) person on my side. There was only one corresponding person on the estrogen-laden side of the platform.
I had introduced myself. We exchanged very brief pleasantries the night before the wedding. And that's it.
She was cute, quiet. I should have talked to her more. But then again, I'm Dave, right? So I don't do that. ["Idiot."]
Instead, I seemed to always talk to my married friends during the reception, or to my two single female friends (SFF) in attendance.
SFF "A" is a friend that I've always been cool with, but I often get a weird overly attentive vibe from her, almost like a kind of flirty feeling. (On the other hand, we all know how poorly I read these vibes.) And of course I've idly considered the possibility once of asking her out, like ya do. But this is not an option. Sweet girl, a good friend, but my gosh is she boring. Incredibly, debilitatingly boring.
[I pause now to consider the awful rammifications of this person reading my website. I consider changing the previous description. I decide that the previous paragraph is so very apropos, it would be an injustice to edit. I pray for protection from unintended eyes. I continue.]
SFF "B" is fun. Attractive (though not really my "type," as such things go). Very nice. Interesting. But super-enamored with being single. The Singleness Cheerleader type. Not to imply that she is insincere in any way, because I know she's not. But she just Keeps. On. Talking. About. It. I suppose that's better than talking about how much you hate being single. But still.
I sometimes catch myself flirting with the second one. As I did Saturday night. I also danced with the first one. Because she asked, and no one else did. I joked, I smiled. Mister Charming.
Funny thing: all evening, throughout dinner, dancing, talking, I kept looking over at the bridesmaid. I guess you could say I had a bit of a crush on her. But I never went over there. Surely not.
At the end of the evening, as I was tired and trying to find out when the happy couple were heading out (so that I could change into street clothes and go home), I remember stopping by "A and B" and saying, "In case I don't see you before you go, have a safe trip back."
Something about the way I said that, or something else, made B respond, "Sure, Dave; hey, are you all right?" I brushed off the question with a "Sure, just tired" and went upstairs.
I wasn't all right. I'm never all right at weddings; not completely. No matter how incredibly happy I am for the parties involved (which I usually am, very much so), there is always a sliver of jealousy and loneliness mixed in. This usually surfaces in the quiet time after cake is served, when a few parents are still on the dance floor with their kids, when grandparents share quiet laughter by candlelight, when the groom steals furtive clock-ward glances and gazes admiringly on his bride hugging a child or family friend. That lingering time, just before the last great shout when man and wife speed off into the future.
It was in that moment I ran into my friends. But I'm not sure that was the only reason for the query.
I normally comport myself better. Keep the inadvertant flirting to a minimum. But I was a bit all over the map Saturday. And (though it could be and probably is all in my mind) I think I was a little more un-Dave-like than normal.
[I'm trying to find a way to say this to where it makes sense. Clearly, I'm still having trouble.]
Point is, I feel a little embarrassed, because I think my overly-interested behavior in these two SFF was noticed and noted.
If I had been drinking (like half of the guests), I would at least have had an excuse. Sadly, only pineapple punch and Coke in my glass that night.
On any other day, I would have been fine. Because the fact is, I really don't want to ask either of these two friends out. I probably wouldn't normally ask out Ms. Cute Bridesmaid, even. But the events of the day, and the location, and everyone being prettied up, it got to me. I really wanted to be in love on Saturday. But I wasn't. So I acted weird for three hours, and then left.
Ah, well. Damage done, if any. But I do feel a little silly about it.
[Closing music: third track of Coldplay's "X & Y", which i can't find the name of.]