Saturday I am attending the wedding of a dear friend.
I cannot wait.
To dance, to see her glow of happiness, and to taste the cake.
But my Husband will be there. At another table. She told me so tonight.
And the idea of going to a wedding, alone, while he sits in another row, breaks my heart.
I must do this.
But it will be hard.
I’ve got painted nails, new dress, new shoes.
But an old, worn out heart.