Not In My Wedding? Not My Friend.

If I were to have wedding, it would look like this. The people, not the dresses.

I have a new rule on friendships:

If I wouldn’t put you in my wedding, we are not friends.

Yes, my wedding which is currently non-existent and not happening in the near or far future. I’m not speaking of the actual wedding that I’ll have one day, because I don’t want a huge ceremony and I don’t want a wedding party at all. If I were to change my mind, my wedding would be an event in every sense of the word with a host of bridesmaids and groomsmen.

Where did this rule come from? The well-known randomness of my thoughts should be answer enough to that question. But I do have a real answer. It occurred to me that someone who I’ve been calling a friend, a best friend, would probably be late to my wedding. And leave early. That got me to thinking. Best friends are automatically maids of honor right? The maid of honor has actual responsibilities. When I think about bridal showers and bachelorette parties, two specific people come to mind. Neither is Miss Arrive Late/Leave Early. How can I call someone like that a friend? I can’t. That’s why God made family.

Back to the subject at hand, my friends. IF I ever were to have an actual wedding party, it would be composed of my friends. The people who are my source of an abundance of laughter, and with whom I’ve made countless memories. People that know my secrets. The people who I know that I can talk to with reckless abandon knowing that they will understand. The ones who listen to my meltdowns, encourage my ratchetness and tell me to sit down when need be.  The people who give me amazing hugs and encourage me on accident. These people would be in my wedding party and turn that muthasucka out!

What’s sad is, besides my sister, none of these people live in the same place as me. Anyone who is currently in Nashville reading this, if you know me personally, you are in one of three categories. Family. Cool People. Whatever. Family and Cool People, don’t go getting your panties in a bunch. I better not receive any angry text messages. Nashville is home; a city full of family and people who I’ve known for most of my life. I am in the process of strengthening bonds and building some new bonds from scratch. My wedding party is by no means set in stone. The rule is, however.

If the name doesn’t make the list, the person is not a friend. Try it.

 

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