Continued…
The morning after the wedding, I basically fled back home. I had breakfast with my family at the hotel but I was shivering with anxiety the whole time. I was hungover, exhausted, and pretty ashamed. I kept waiting for someone to ask me where I disappeared to the night before, but nobody did. They just teased me that I’d had too many whiskeys. We were supposed to spend the day together but I was too fucked up, so I drove two hours back to my university apartment, saw my girlfriend, and felt like trash. Not for really for cheating, but for the possibility that I’d done something that could seriously mess up my family. Honestly, even today I don’t really like thinking about it. I’d prefer to just erase it from my mind – and really part of the reason I’m writing it down is to get it out of me. So thank you for participating in my therapy.