Garbage About Something Stupid

A Story by scarlynn

When she said she was getting married, it terrified me. I thought about what's been said: by my parents, by her parents, by parents of exes, by parents of friends, by my teachers, my rehab friends, my therapists, my psychiatrists, my doctors, my life coaches, my enemies, my ghosts, me- and it looked grim. It looked so dark. I didn't know how to tell her about how dark it really looked, so my teeth clenched and my bones rattled while I stared morbidly at my phone.
Frustration comes from not understanding where the light is at a wedding. You can't find meaning in the photos of people smiling, and it somehow looks more like a funeral than the best day of anyone's life. The cake is moldy, and the wax bride wears a wax veil over her face for the rest of her wax days. Life just makes you think of death, the beginning only feels like the end.
You've got barely a grip on the fact that you don't know love, you actually believe that you know everything about it. You've seen so much torture and death that you know everything now, don't you? A free pass given to special people who've "seen things". It must be difficult to balance false prophetism and the creation of love.
I'm trying to want to hope that it all works out just fine.