I think I'm a terrible person. Graceless and harsh. Yes, I had a moderately bad day.

We've known each other for more then half our lives...
~My cousin Ryan to his new wife Katie, on their wedding.

I had known someone for more then half my life and did intend to marry him. I had said, 'on my wedding day, you'd either be the groom or the bridesmaid', in full confidence of the former. Well, that dream came and went and the skeletal remains stare back in the form of desperate proclaimations of, in my distant opinion, a false self-generated reality. You can't survive on a diet of hope.

I watch Ryan and Katie dance, necks arched forward, insatiably attracted by the offer of eternal love and tenderness. Where do these fairy tales come from? My story seems to be more of a postmodern narrative, spoken deep in the back alleys of the city.

huh?