I knew every minute I was out last night was hurting my relationship.
I knew it, but I needed to be out. I needed my surprise "congrats on getting married, all your co-workers love you" party, and I needed to be at it by myself.
And I knew forgiveness is easier to get than permission.
I didn't know I would be out SO long or that the fiance was freaking out at home or that there was an Oreo ice cream waiting for me in the freezer as a small token of love.
All I knew was that the 300 calories in my system were allowing me to very easily get drunk and that Chevy's arm and leg against mine felt really nice as I bummed half his cigarette.
All I knew was that Sara was wasted and trying so hard to get with Chevy, chasing him around all night as he chased me around. I didn't think it would turn out that way when she first got there, already sloppy with her hipbones exposed and her ribs showing through her shirt. I thought he would chase back, or at least allow himself to be chased.
But, no. He was ignoring her, moving away from her, and setting his drink in front of me, hugging me, telling me goodbye the only way he knows how.
All I knew was that the look in her eyes when he slid my barstool over and squeezed in next to me was saddening, especially when I turned to him.
"Are you saying I have a fat ass?"
"No, are you KIDDING me?"
"Oh, so you're saying YOU have a fat ass."
Everyone laughed except for her. Because in that moment she knew no matter how drunk she got, he was not going to take advantage of her. He didn't want her. He wanted me. And she realized what half the people we work with already know, but she has never seen: That we have a history.
He ignored her until she gave up and he stole a private moment with me.
"I really am happy for you. I hope you enjoy your day and make the most of it. I wish things were different, but they're not and I'm happy for you."
"I wish we could have a normal friendship."
"Yeah, that would make things a whole lot easier."
"But that's really, really not possible."
I laugh, he smiles. He's so sincere.
"We've had a lot of ups and downs over the past year... You know, our timing was just off."
He's so right. Our timing was off. Because we're not meant to be together.
I'm meant to go home to a fiance who's so hurt he doesn't tell me about the icecream in the freezer (which I discover this morning when he's already at work).
Who loves me so much he doesn't blame a moment of the night on me.
Even though I am slightly to be blamed.
However, last night gave me something he can't give me. It gave me closure I sincerely needed before I get married. It gave me my goodbye with Chevy.
And even though when I get back from my wedding and honeymoon, Chevy may still be around for a couple days, I've already said goodbye to him.
And I'm glad.
Now I just need to look toward the future and my fiance and how very soon he will be my husband and how, somehow, I need to make up to him for last night.
Because while I needed it, he does not understand and I cannot explain.