I am popping at the seams after Papa John's and Tres Leche cake for a wedding shower here in my office. The bride-to-be, our 21-year old receptionist, is beaming with excitement; she is marrying her Marine this weekend. It was fast-paced, or as fast as can be when not actually together in the flesh, having started the military long-distance relationship not even one year ago. Interesting to watch. It happened a lot like my lastest one began: meeting, leaving, visits in between, only to say goodbye again and again. Married to the idea that it will work out. It will be hard, but it will work out. Endless letters, real handwritten love letters for something to hang on to. He is not here phyiscally, but soon he will not be there mentally.
Not to say I don't think her relationship will work out, I am just damaged by the end of mine. Feeling bitter? Maybe. Feeling hopeless at times? Yes. When the world (mine) teaches that you should grow up, go to college, fall in love and then have a beautiful wedding at a country club, complete with stuffed mushrooms and endless chardonnay, rewiring your mind proves to be difficult. It is chronic. Signs pop up, fate kicks in, and you think you've found it. You feel it and it engulfs your thoughts, like the fondant icing perfecting the sweet, cakey goodness that has eased your mind and cushioned your heart.
Yadda yadda. On the bright side, the cake was amazing. La Sobrecita Bakery - Tres Leche filled with pineapple with whipped pink and white icing. Que deliciosa! I need to work out extra hard at 6am tomorrow.
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