One of my coworkers got married recently. She’s the one who used to be my good friend until the whole prayer debacle in the spring. I, of course, didn’t go to the wedding (she lives in North Carolina) but I wouldn’t have anyway, because I knew the Former Flame would be there. Today, we were looking at her online wedding photos — all 864 of them, no joke — and of course there was a picture of the FF.

I felt nothing.

N-o-t-h-i-n-g.

This man, who I once thought I loved, could have been a stranger, ya know? He didn’t even look like himself. He looked older, worn, tired … and he’s the same age as me. It just furthers my belief that being a lying bastard turns your soul black and ages you prematurely.

Another thing about these wedding photos … I’d say that 95% of the ceremony photos were of the bride. If the groom was in the picture, the shot was of the back of his head. There were also FOUR photos of the two of them looking at a large photo of HER. It was something else, that’s for sure.

Last night, S. and I went out for pizza. I ordered the quattro formaggio and she got the bbq chicken. All day she was talking about how she was looking forward to eating her leftovers. Tonight, I opened the box and … I had her pizza. Oh well. I ate it anyway.