This is it

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Today's the day. Old Flame will be Mrs. So-and-so in a few hours. I woke up yesterday morning depressed at the idea, and can't honestly say that today is much better. I did a lot of thinking about it last night before falling asleep, and it's got to be that I still wish things were as good as they were for a certain period of time. No better adjective comes to mind than, "magical." The whole affair was from way out of left field, completely caught me by surprise, knocked me for a loop, and so on and so forth. She was the funniest, sweetest, most compassionate, and certainly, most beautiful woman I'd ever met. Things were absolutely brilliant.

For a period of time.

Then she cooled off a bit. Then things were normal. Then she'd cool off again. Over and over. I knew she had a whole bundle of stress in her life, what with her family and some things in her past, so I tried not to pressure her or pry.

I was going nuts. A real miserable wreck during the down times.

I should've broken it off, but I was afraid that my doing so wouldn't make things any better. There was the distinct feeling of being stuck against the wall, nowhere to go. All I could do was wait for the good times to come round again...maybe make my break then.

But who was I kidding? Each time things were back to normal, I convinced myself somehow that they'd always be normal from then on. No more of this cyclic stuff, she's off that.

Wrong, each and every time.

She's the one who ended it, after three or so years of madness and ecstasy...never simultaneously. She reeled me back in briefly not long after, but then swatted me upside the head with the news she'd been seeing someone else.

It took a long time...a very long time...to get over that. In fact, it wasn't until sometime in the last 3 months or so.

We've stayed in contact, still good friends...we have a lot of the great conversations along the lines of what we used to have, but the sparkle in her eyes is diminished. It's kind of similar to a re-rerun of "Good Times." First time was brilliant, second time was still pretty good...but the third time, there's nothing there. It's flat and void of originality and life.


I've only met the guy she's marrying a handful of times. I liked him alright, I guess. He's a little whiny and has some questionable items in his past, but whatever. I'm not marrying the fool, and with the way things have been the last couple of months, it doesn't look like I'll be hearing much about him either. She's been far more out of contact than she has been in the past. Probably for the best, really.


So, in a few short hours, I'll put on my best suit and make the drive back my old hometown. I'll sit in a beautiful church, surrounded by loads of stuffy society types, and let this thing blow on through. Maybe during the reception I'll meet a nice, eligible woman and we'll sneak off to some little restaurant and lay the foundation for something beautiful.

Or, Old Flame will introduce me to a few who are somewhere in the vicinity of less-than-desirable, and announce to them that I want to be a doctor. The talons will dig in and I'll have to concoct some calculated and daring escape.

Or, better yet, all the women will be astounding and Old Flame will provide proper introductions, but they'll sense that I'm not from a family of billionaires and turn their noses up. haw haw haw.

Whatever. I just want it to be over and done with quickly and come back home. Classes resume Monday, so I've got far more important things with which I should be concerning myself.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris