something close to nothing

If we're going to be completely honest, and you want the entire story, I should start from the beginning which is actually the end. Picture a rainy day wedding...

Everyone is celebrating, except for me, the Maid of Honor, and for those of you who have held such a title and understand it all, the bride's designated bitch. I was at my best friend Tammy's beck and call for the past year while she planned this Aaron Spelling esque circus that we called a wedding. I was the planner, the helper, the pinner, the taster, the candle stick maker...and all of those duties ended tonight.

I'm bent over a toilet in a small, sweaty stall heaving up champagne and red velvet cake that tasted better coming up than it did going down. While this is irrelevant to my pain, I should add that we tried every kind of cake in Chicago, and she picked this dry, red velvet situation that no one wanted to even try.

After everything I had ever eaten came back up, I sat on the cool tile and sobbed. Tears and snot ran down my face as I sat, heavy head in hands, reviewing in my mind our whole relationship. Brian always picked the best time for everything. Like the weekend he planned a party for his buddies complete with a keg and a stripper, the same weekend my parents were staying with us. He picks my best friend's wedding to end our relationship. And the cherry on the red velvet cake - he's been seeing someone else. Kacey. He even called her by name. I'm standing in the middle of the reception dance floor, in my lovely yellow dress that I'm sure I'll never wear again, and he names the evil bat that he had been screwing. In our apartment. He was going blow for blow. How could I have not seen it coming?

I sat in that stall, as he headed back to our apartment to clear his stuff out as quickly as he and his little Ford Ranger could. Was I really THAT miserable of a girlfriend? I'm sure he had an agenda. Something like, 'buy some chocolate milk, move my shit out Monday while Ayla is at yogalates, then have the talk and leave free and clear'. But oh no, I was so horrible that he couldn't last the weekend, and had to tell me at a wedding reception at one in the morning. What had I done in a past life that justifies me being shit on so severely?

Then, in the middle of my self-loathing and dry heaving, Tammy came in the bathroom.

"That's one of my dresses poking out from under that stall! Who is it?" She sang as she busted through the door in only the way a bride on her wedding day can. "Ayla! Are you okay? Oh shit, did you get roofied again?"

My head lolled to the side as I thought of how nothing would be funny or fun ever again. Nothing would be bright and nothing would be beautiful. Everything was gray and lifeless. Even in my deep dismay, I didn't want to ruin Tammy's good time. After all the hours we spent searching for the perfect dress and looking at dining halls, and trying to find an animal trainer that would work til two AM, I'd be damned if she didn't enjoy the hell out of it.

"Yeah, I'm not sure. I think I'm just going to head upstairs and go sleep it off in the room." She helped me to the elevator of the hotel, and into the California king bed that would only sleep one tonight. All the way she shared her opinion of her new husband's extended family, and who she suspected roofied me.

"You know, that Derrick guy was in jail a few years ago. And who wears an orange suit to a wedding anyway? I bet it was him."

She put a glass of water on the nightstand, and I smiled up at her. "Go have fun."

"Call me, if you need anything," she said as she grabbed her bussell and headed out of the room, leaving me alone in my grief. Tammy was that type of friend. She was the girl who would leave her own wedding to help you if you had just gotten dumped. Or roofied, whatever she believed. It didn't occur to her to get Brian to help me, because that's the type of boyfriend he is. He's the guy who conveniently disappears when you need him most. It should have spoken volumes, but what's that saying about a fool in love?

The next morning I woke and at first thought, wondered if it had been a cruel, drunken dream. I'd roll over and Brian would be there, snoring as only he and a grizzly bear could. But he wasn't there, and the details of the night before flooded back to me.

"I can't do this, I'm sorry." He pulled his hands away from me.

"You can't do what? Dance?"

Brian rubbed his forehead, something he always did when he was angry, frustrated, or impatient. "I'm seeing someone. I wanted to tell you sooner Ayla, but I didn't know how."

The whole room stopped. It was as if a truck had hit me, but I was still standing.
"What do you mean?" The stupidest response I could have given him. I knew what it meant, but I had to ask, even though I knew the answer.

"Her name is Kacey. We've been seeing each other for a few months. It just happened."

It just happened. For a few months.

Vomit rose in my throat and I rushed to the bathroom. There's a lonely place where hearts break, someplace Elvis sung about, and that's a hotel suite when you're alone. And there I was, at a heartbreak hotel.

The sun poured in through the windows as I laid back down in the bed built for seven, but only slept one, and I closed my eyes. I just wanted the room to be dark and wake up, and things be normal. I wanted to fix everything. I wanted a 7Up.

You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you can get revenge.

**To be Continued