(Disclaimer, if you wish to continue picturing the author of this blog as a tough, suave, perfect picture of manliness, go ahead and skip this entry)
(If you DO decide to read this post you will most likely come to the conclusion that this blog is, in fact, written by a 17 year-old girl masquerading as a 23 year-old man. However, I assure you that I am in fact male, I was born that way, and raised that way, albeit without a strong male influence.)
Liz' wedding announcement came today. It was sitting innocently with the rest of the day's mail when I got home from work, only I knew the depravity within. I took it down to my room, and left it on my desk for an hour and a half trying to forget it was there. Before I knew it, the letter was in my hand, and I was tugging at it's corners, all the while telling myself everything would be fine, she'd look horrible. After all, I've been preparing myself for this for almost 6 months when I first found out they were engaged.
The envelope tore, and I was wrong, on all accounts. I don't think any amount of mental preparation would have shielded me from the rush of emotion once I had that picture in my hand. Even still, it's hard to sift through and figure out exactly which emotion, or combination thereof, I'm feeling at this moment.
I couldn't sleep last night, I've been up for about 28 hours at this point, I feel better than I did last night, but not by much. I guess this is the hardest part of being male, holding it all in on the outside. Ladies have it easy, you call your friends, buy some comfort food, rent a cheesy chick flick and talk it out. I did my best, my buddy and I got out to play some catch, I saw his daughter for the first time, I needed it. Now I'll probably devote the rest of my day to a little video game therapy, "breath in and out all day," and keep my fingers crossed that the singles ward I'm finally going to is cool...