The wedding

              When I was growing up, my father used to have this car...A really old model and not very reliable, but it was ours and took my family on vacations, to work, to visit my grandparents and so on. I was about 15 years old when he sold it to get a new one. The person who bought it lived in our small town, but in another neighbourhood, so it was years before I saw it again. I think I was about 21 years old when that happened, and I remember how strange it felt: this object, that had so many of my memories in it, this thing that used to be so familiar, this vehicle that I took for granted, just sitting in the parking lot and I had no access to it. I could tell you exactly  what sound it make when you tried to start it, where all the stains on the back-seat were(where I spilled apple-juice or chocolate syrup), how low you could roll the window without getting it stuck, but I couldn't get in.

                That is exactly how I felt when I saw my ex at my friends wedding, sitting across the table to me, but not mine anymore. Not that I ever owned him, but just as out-of-reach. I knew all the insides of his mind, all the little details about him body, but this time, I couldn't hold his hand or even touch him. And then, there was her...the new "owner", the one that was just getting to know the features but had the steering-wheel in her hands.

               The most evil place I had to be at as a young adult was a wedding and I didn't think it would ever end,I didn't think I could ever leave. Time itself froze in mid-air, fell to our table and we faked a smile and ate it with frosting on top.