It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that I weigh less than I have since 1999. It doesn't matter that I lost 6 pounds in December. It doesn't matter that I danced in 4 inch heels and wore a golden gown. It doesn't matter that I provided the champagne and pasted on a smile. It doesn't even matter that I made a brilliant toast or taught myself to do my hair in a messy updo.
I'm still sleeping alone in my beautiful hotel room. And there's still nothing I can do to change that or to stop caring about it. Tonight is supposed to be my me time, and I can't stop wishing someone was here.
I read something recently that said tears are the best love potion. If so, tonight I should have had men all over me. I've never cried at a wedding before. And tonight it was hard to stop until I got on the dancefloor. To witness the weddding of someone I coached, with the belief that I can never have what I coached her to create ... Well, it hurt. I'm left feeling like 'those who can, do; those who can't, coach.
Of course it may just be that it's 3 am and I've had a lot of champagne. But I sure wish there was someone here with me instead of just wondering if someone is on the other side of this blog.
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