Finally getting up to the point in November where I really had to start living Ainsley's life, between the wedding and the holidays, among other things. The wedding saga was long enough to split into several posts, so bear with me here.
Purple pastel V-neck midi-dress which conforms to the aesthetic of Ainsley's previous bridal shower visit but isn't the exact dress she wore to that. Slightly more eyeshadow than I'd wear to work, plus bronzer. A million reminders that everyone looks worse on a phone camera than in a mirror and that's why I don't look exactly like her past photos rather than me screwing up somehow.
Well, at least I look the part.
It was the day I finally couldn't escape, the day where my shame over ruining a borrowed life defeated my anxiety in a situation not directly related to keeping financially afloat. The day I actually see Ainsley's friends instead of trying to not sound too fake in the group chat. The bridal shower, which is merely an appetizer for my bridesmaid duties next weekend. One thing about having all your bridesmaids be sorority sisters who still live in the area means you can get away with things like a bridal shower a week before the wedding since nobody's going to have to pay travel costs, but it's. Well. I try to optimistically tell myself that it's better than just being thrown right in once I show up to the rehearsal dinner.
That's why I've been practicing my makeup even harder, reading through the group chat logs, anything that can be converted into a discrete problem with an actual goal. Something I could put on a spreadsheet, and did. Focusing on the practical elements of a problem to make the situation seem slightly less bad even if they pale in comparison to the painful reality has been my coping mechanism my whole life. This just raises the stakes.
So with that in mind I drove out deep into the Phoenix exurbs, throwing on one of Ainsley's playlists to hopefully distract myself enough to put me in a mindset closer to her. (It's really not bad. Lot of Fleetwood Mac in there.) I arrived at the tract townhouse precisely on time, which would give me a few minutes to ruminate over my situation and work up the courage to leave the car. I don't like being one of the first to arrive to anything, it makes me feel like I've been put on the spot. So I wait patiently, breathing in and out, calculating exactly the right moment I need to--
"Holy shit Ainsley is that you!?"
Before I knew it I'm pulled out of the car and into a tight hug. I was prepared for the hug but not the abruptness. It's Melissa, Ainsley's best friend from her sorority days. I owe her a few lunches.
"It's so great to see you! Seriously, I know I keep talking about it but, I'm glad to have you around, y'know? I really hope you've been doing okay."
She obviously doesn't think I've been doing okay. I blink. Remember to smile.
"...Wanna see some dog pics?"
Greeting the rest of Ainsley's friends went more or less the same way. Inside the townhouse were bride-to-be Cayley, her fiancée, mother and teenage sister, and the six bridesmaids, myself included. I had to reassure them that I'm not dead and try to dissociate enough to not look like I'm panicking. Fortunately the nature of the event meant I wasn't the center of attention, though Cayley came across like she's generally a fairly shy person who'd normally expect other people to drive the conversation. People like Ainsley Thomas. I know I kept getting looks from the other bridesmaids expecting a response that often wasn't coming. Even Cayley's mom did this a couple times. (Has she met Ainsley? I should research that before the wedding). Melissa was more than willing to pick up the slack, though, and so was the fiancée when he wasn't keeping to himself. I wonder if I'd feel more or less out of place here in his position.
It went moderately okay. The most frequent conversation topic was the upcoming wedding, which I could keep up with decently as the group chat had been pretty active about it for a while. Whenever I'm in a large group conversation with people who know Ainsley I feel the obligation to talk a certain percentage of the time so people don't get even more weirded out, so the wedding topic provided ample opportunity to dig myself out of conversational debt, so to speak. They talked about ASU's football season (going okay but not great, apparently) and Vince Gilligan's new show (I was bailed out of having to talk about it since I wasn't the only one who hadn't seen the episode).
I got some raised eyebrows when I gawked a bit about how much the last-minute catering switch cost. Ainsley is apparently well-known among her group for wanting an enormous wedding, which I instantly realized I'm a dumbass for not realizing that yeah, that sounds like her. And I dug myself even deeper with the only excuse I could think of: saying the breakup made me not want to think about weddings for a bit. My own wedding, I clarified to Cayley before she could say anything.
"Hey. Are you... How's that going for you, anyway?" Someone asked. "Does Jaysen still try to talk to you these days?"
"...No?" That was a lie. Every few weeks that guy will text me some bottom-tier meme that I'll just ignore. Not even a "hey bby missing u u up to anything tonite?" text, just the meme. Usually a poorly cropped TikTok screenshot. But I was so eager to end this part of the conversation that I didn't even want to divulge that much.
"Uh huh. And you still don't want to, right? 'Cause I swear, if that fucking guy--"
"No. Believe me, I'm done. I don't need him in my life right now and I don't really care if he tries. I'll just ignore him." Okay. Now time to smoothly navigate my way out of this conversation. "Oh, hey Cayley, can you tell me the kind of wine you got for this? Big fan."
Everyone stared. Melissa chimed in through awkward laughter: "Ains, I've known you for eight years now, and that's the most apathetic I've ever heard you sound."
I took a sip of wine.
Somehow the conversation moved back to normal topics. But now, after a long drive home full of replaying that moment in my head on loop, I can only think: I've got a whole weekend of this.
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