Dear Brides and Grooms of the world,
Hey! How are you? How’s the wedding planning going? Sorry, I know you’re busy sorting out the 150 mason jar candles complete with a personalised scent for each of your guests, but this will just take a minute.
You know that friend you have? You know the one I’m talking about. The friend you love and adore, but is your ‘separate friend’. You both move in different circles, you have your own friends, but you also love to catch up for coffee, just you two, every few weeks.
I am that friend to Olivia*, and she mine. We met through work and had been friends for a few years when she got engaged. By this time we had both moved on to other jobs but still kept in regular contact, and I was ecstatic when her invitation arrived in the mail. But then I saw it. Staring me in the face. Rose Wilson and … nothing. Zilch. Nada.
There was no plus-one.
Being in my early twenties, Olivia was the first of my friends to get married. I had attended a couple of family weddings when I was younger, but had always been part of the bridal party. This time I was a guest, and I knew absolutely no one.
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The jubilance of my friend getting married was overcome by the creeping feeling of dread as I realised not only would I know no one at the wedding, it was in a rural town. In another state.
Despite this, not for one second did I think about not going. I had to go. I couldn’t wait to see my friend so happy and in love. I would have to push past my introverted tendencies and *gasp*, talk to people.
I arrived in the town the night before after a flight and a bus, checked in to my hotel and ordered some pizza. (This town didn’t even have menulog, the horror). The nerves built during the next day lasted into the afternoon.