Sleepless Solitude: The True-Life Journals of a Xanax'd Millennial (Part 9 of 12)

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September 24

September 24

Today was the big day. Well, not my big day. Well, sort of.

I woke up fairly unenthused and slightly negative this morning, but at least in a better mood than last night. After showering and getting myself ready, Mom drove me to Kate’s house where all of the girls had been getting their hair and makeup done since 6 a.m.

It’s times like these I am so happy that I am a guy. I looked just as good as the girls, yet spent a fraction of the time getting ready. That’s a tricky subject, though. Women don’t necessarily have to go through all of that primping. It’s society that basically forces them into it, but I’m all for the no makeup movement. That being said, when I was at the house, I had the makeup artist cover up a truly heinous zit. So, slightly hypocritical of me. Whatever. It was what it was. Actually, it was nothing but a mountain of concealer on my cheek. Thanks for nothing, girl.

Considering there was a bride, seven bridesmaids, mother, father, flower girl, and two aunts at Kate’s house, the vibe was surprisingly calm. We were ahead of schedule, too. The weather was absolutely stunning, so it was really the perfect day for a wedding. With some hesitation, I started drinking a mimosa at the house. I promised myself that I would keep an eye on my consumption, remaining conscious of how much I was drinking and having a lot of water in between sips.

We boarded the “limo,” which was actually a gigantic coach bus converted into a party bus, and drove to the venue. Everyone was in a really great mood and looked beautiful. Every single one of us. Needless to say, we were really feeling ourselves. Looking back, everything seems to have happened so fast.

We got to the venue, assembled in our order, and walked down the aisle. I was standing alongside the groomsmen, right in front of a giant speaker. When that damn cliché wedding music started to play and I saw Kate walk down the aisle, I completely lost it. Tears everywhere. I tried to keep it together, but there was only so much I could do. I knew I’d be a mess.

Today was third wedding I’ve been to. Every time, it’s the bride’s entrance that gets me. The other stuff, not so much. However, seeing someone you love exude that much happiness is what makes everything worthwhile. That’s what it’s all about, which is exactly why I get frustrated with everything else that surrounds a wedding. I would never want the material components to overshadow such an incredible moment like that.

Kate was crying as she walked down the aisle. Not realizing I was also crying, one of Adam’s groomsmen looked at me and joked that all of the girls on the other side of the altar were babies for being so emotional. It didn’t take long for him to remember who he was talking to. Kate was absolutely beautiful. I was so happy for her. I saw everyone in the audience, too. I threw some winks to Nicky and Jessica, and saw Veronica, Riley, and Riley’s billionaire beau sitting beside my parents. It was a full house.

Things didn’t slow down from there. After the vows, the wedding party was whisked away pon de party bus to some random farm for photos. And, I do mean all the photos. If the professional photographer wasn’t doing his thing, Kate’s cousins were snapping away or rolling the film. If those kids weren’t around, the bridal party’s Snapchat and Instagram accounts were in full effect.

There were a couple of moments during the photoshoot when they needed shots of “the guys” and “the girls.” After standing in one of Adam’s groomsmen shots with his boys for an extended amount of time, I finally piped up and said that I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to be. I never showed it, but I was somewhat frustrated. Kate and the bridesmaids were taking photos without me, and I didn’t want to be left out of her bridal party because I had a suit on. That was really the only moment of exclusion, though. After I spoke up, I was called over for each and every shot – many of which I looked amazing in.

You know what? I’ll just own it. I looked fucking great today. I love it when I can show the world that I’m not a fat slob who is a drunken mess or a lazy stoner. I cleaned up pretty good. People were taking notice, too. I was receiving a lot of messages on Snapchat and Instagram from friends and people I’d never met, all telling me how amazing I looked. It was a good feeling – especially when I’ve been feeling so ugly as of late.

The group jumped back on the Greyhound, and returned to the reception venue. After assuming our given posts, we greeted 300 guests as they arrived over the course of two fucking hours. It was the line that never ended. Natasha and I were assigned to the gift table, which meant that we gave every couple a bottle of wine after they put their envelope in the gift box. I’m not sure how many people will drink the stuff, though. I told about 100+ guests that the wine was made by Kate and Adam stomping grapes with their bare feet. We’ll see.

Things were winding down. Out of nowhere, Natasha informed me that the head table was divided into suits and dresses. We would not be sitting together for the reception. Fuck. I thought Natasha was just screwing with me at first, but then Rebecca Price marched up to us and repeated the same note. I was not happy. Against my better judgment, I decided to casually ask Kate about changing the arrangement. When Kate’s response was a passive, “If you really want to,” I knew it was time to let it go. I sucked it up.

Once the bridal party made their entrances into the main hall, which Natasha totally bailed on and left me looking like a damn fool, I took my seat on the groomsmen side. I’ll be honest, the arrangement actually worked out much better than I had anticipated. Instead of a long single-file table, Natasha and I were simply seated across from one another. The dinner was also so short that it barely even mattered. I still wasn’t happy about the gender division, but it wasn’t my place to make a scene. We’ll just call it one of those moments where you learn what you will and won’t do for yourself in the future.

Speaking of the future, Natasha said that I would be the “Man of Honor” at her (eventual) wedding! Natasha was drinking, so I don’t know if she’ll hold herself to that. Still, I was more than a little shocked. I always thought it would be Nicky. When I asked Natasha about that, she said Nicky would be a bridesmaid, “or something.” Wow. Cool!

Words cannot express how much I value my friendship with Natasha. The bridal party kept laughing at us throughout the day, because we were constantly reciting verbatim quotes to the same people on separate occasions. Once again, it just proved how similar we are. For example, when Natasha told me I would be her Man of Honor. Without hesitation, we both picked up a knife at the same time and shouted, “Blood sisters!”

I thought about telling Natasha she would be my Maid of Honor. Should I ever find someone worth marrying – or who will actually want to be with me – I’m sure she will be. However, I couldn’t stop thinking about Phillip. To be honest, I feel as though I am drifting further away from my brother these days. Our interests are becoming less common, and I find his recent attitude to be quite pretentious. Plus, Phillip’s not a part of my life in that way. Things were different when I was dating RX. Even then, Phillip really didn’t take much of an interest in my relationship or have any involvement in my life the way Kate and Natasha’s sisters do for them. Those girls are around for everything. I wish I had that kind of relationship with Phillip, but I’m not sure I ever will. Especially after the events of this summer, I don’t really want to be involved in Phillip’s personal life anymore. That was incredibly humiliating for me.

Interestingly enough, PW, Stefan, and Lucas Ingraldi were all creeping around my Snapchat and Instagram throughout the day. I could see each of them viewing my different posts. Good! If there was one thing I wanted from those posts of “Handsome Kurt,” it was for dickheads like them to see those pictures and realize that perhaps I’m not such a mess after all.

The party continued. I had my specially requested chicken finger dinner, and talked to a lot of different people. I cried when Adam danced with his mom. I could see how much she loved her son, and it made me think of my own mom and how she’s not going to be happy when (read: if) I leave her. I am such a momma’s boy, it’s not even funny. A big, fat, momma’s boy baby.

Every one of my friends loved Mom and Dad, by the way. We danced like crazy people all night, drinking a lot and joking around with one another. I remained focused on my water intake, though. Mom did, too. The two of us would have “water breaks” where we would sit at a table and guzzle down a huge glass of water. This continued throughout the night. I probably had about one to two liters of water over the course of the evening. I was keeping it under control – or, so I thought.

I ate some more, danced some more, and talked to a few new people. This included Adam’s grandma, who wanted to put me in touch with her son. Purely as a mentor though, as he has published three books. The man is also in his 60s and is bi-polar. To be honest, I’ve dated worse.

At one point, Kate’s mom sat down beside me at an empty table.

“So, Kurt. How are you?” she asked in an eerily calm voice.

Oh, fuck. This was it. Everything about Kate’s mom sitting down beside me felt like I was in trouble for something. I am about 80% sure I let out a bit of diarrhea, but the jury is still out on that one. Fortunately, I was wearing black pants. If there was a shit stain, nobody could see it. The way Kate’s mom posed her question felt like I had done something wrong. In fact, I was convinced she was going to tell me to stop drinking. I was getting drunk, but it was a party drunk. I wasn’t sloppy.

Fortunately, I totally misread the situation. After going on a neurotic, ten-minute tangent about Cousin Ashley’s wedding to prove that I was “sober” enough to have a conversation, I realized that Kate’s mom just wanted to chat. Of course, I still needed confirmation.

“You scared the crap out of me,” I admitted. “I thought you were going to cut off my drinking.”

“God, no!” Kate’s mom laughed. “Don’t be silly.”

We were good. Phew.

Although I was seated across the table from Natasha, I didn’t see as much of her as I would’ve liked. Natasha latched onto Konrad like this wedding was the Titanic and he was the last remaining life preserver. As a result, she was pretty much M.I.A. after dinner. Konrad is a good guy, though. The more I got to know him tonight, the more I came to enjoy his personality. Beneath the stuffed shirt and real estate agent persona, I think Konrad is actually pretty fun. I mean, you’d have to be if you want Natasha in your life. Natasha and I managed to share a dance together tonight, during which we both expressed our love for one another and cried. Naturally, Natasha ran to the bathroom the minute the song finished, because God forbid her makeup wasn’t 100% perfect.

With Natasha occupied, I ended up dancing with Veronica for the majority of the evening. As two of Kate’s very few single friends, we totally bonded with one another and kept the moves going strong all night long. I even started a party train at one point, which ran through the entire dance floor.

Although I turned down a few shots when people asked, I was still drinking a lot. I think the point it went downhill was when I started having a gin shot with my gin and waters. Yeah, that’s probably it. But, I was literally chugging more water than alcohol. I figured I would be fine. Wrong.

Listen. I was better than I was at Cousin Ashley’s wedding. I guess that’s not saying much, though. Ashley’s wedding was a complete blackout for me. I don’t even remember leaving the venue, and the next morning I woke up naked in my family’s hotel room on a rollaway bed, which I had peed on. Ugh. Why do I always wet the fucking bed?

My level of intoxication at Kate’s wedding was alright, though. I was drunk, I’ll say it. I had more to drink than I would have liked, but figured I would be okay given my excessive water intake. I remember everything. I remember who I talked to and what I did, including one moment where I encouraged Veronica to be proud of her nipples and pulled down her dress. It probably wasn’t the most gentlemanly of moves, but Veronica wasn’t too bothered by the exposure. I also remember saying that I would only leave once the DJ played Mariah Carey’s “Always Be My Baby,” which he did.

“Always Be My Baby” was also the point where I fucking lost it. I cried my eyes out to Kate and Mom. During my fucked-up drunken episode, that was the moment when it finally hit me that my best friend had just married someone. With a little help from my gin shots, the whole thing slapped me square across the face. I realized how fast time had passed. It seemed like just yesterday that we were going to bars together downtown when Kate and Adam first met. It’s crazy. Everything is different now.

Oh. Speaking of losing things, I think Mom knew it was time for us to leave when I was frantically searching for my “lost” phone. In reality, I had accidentally picked up another groomsman’s suit jacket and there was nothing in the pocket. Come on, that was an easy mistake!

Following the “Always Be My Baby” moment, things are somewhat hazy. I remember parts of the car ride to Casa Z, but not enough. The only thing I can slightly recall is having a very intoxicated conversation with Mom and Dad about wanting to move to California, and how Dad considered it running away. In hindsight, it was probably the worst time to have that conversation, as I was royally fucked at that point. However, I also don’t remember enough of the moment to decide if it was really that bad.

That’s the thing about being trashed. Sometimes, things really are as bad as you think they were. Other times, people might not even remember the shit you said or did, because they were also drunk. Much like tucking your shirt into your underwear, it’s a tricky game I play. One that sometimes leaves me looking slim and slick, and other times has me looking like a socially inept asshole with his tighty whities hanging out for the world to see.

The last thing I remember is being in bed, looking to my right, and seeing a full glass of ice water on my nightstand. Mom must have put it there. So sweet.

Goodnight xo

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