The unbearableness of not being very light.

I have been really searching for something vacuous to expound upon, but just can't quite pull it off. So screw y'all. You have to hear me cry.

I have this friend that I've literally known my whole life; we were thrown in the crib together. Our mothers both had us a little later in life, so we got stuck together often. Our lifelong story has been tenuous at times, but I have never really stopped worshipping him. And now he's getting married.

It's the most unexplainable feeling. I've only felt it maybe once, when my sister got married 12 years ago. But I'm actually closer to this person than I am to my sister, if only because of our age difference. She's twelve years older, and we didn't really "grow up" together. Anyway, it's this ridiculous pain that you can't admit to because it means you're a selfish asshole. While my icy little heart leaps to see him so happy, I feel like I'm losing my appendix or something. And we don't even talk all that much anymore. I'm so puzzled. But it makes me feel very small. As in, character-wise. Hopefully I'll feel a wee absolved by your vapid validation.

So I'll recount fond memories of my pal. We used to put makeup on each other under my parents' big dining room table. We would fight over whether it was "yellow" or "lellow." He colored a tulip he drew with markers, cut it out, and scotch-taped it to a balloon for me when we had chicken pox. He led me by the hand out over the water, balancing on the side planks of the wharf his family was building when we were four years old. We spent endless hours on the "trolley" in the back yard of his house. We inspected dead lizards. We always went trick-or-treating together. We always did Mardi Gras together. Consequently we spent a lot of time on the floor sorting candy together. We launched just about anything we could find over his roof in a super-strength water balloon launcher. We got in trouble.

Somewhere around high school he started rolling his eyes at me and decided I was not cool. I was devastated.

Somewhere around college we started hanging out again. Felt better. We always call each other on our birthdays.

And now we're here. I try to control the involuntary asshole rays that pour from my eyeballs whenever his fiancee is around, to what level of success, I'm not sure. I do try, though. Didn't help that no less than five people at their engagement party thought I was his fiancee. Only a little awkward.

Anyway. Hopefully I'm done with all this now. Because now I have to worry about the "spot" on Dad's liver.

KJ