Sunday, October 5, 2008

Attending to the attendants.

So tomorrow, we're lunching Jon's honor attendant.

Only, she doesn't know that's why we're lunching. In fact, we're lunching her with the precise purpose of asking her to be his honor attendant. Which for some reason is making me really, really nervous.

About the whole honor attendant thing. As I've mentioned previously, we've re-structured the way the ceremony will work, and indeed where it will take place within the event space, in a manner that makes one attendant for each of us the best number. So, basically, when we're up there doing our thing it will be the two of us, the officiant, one attendant (functioning as witness and ring holder) each, and our parents. No flanks of bridesmaids and groomsmen. That just doesn't work for us.

For me the choice was easy; Miss Nina would have always been my "maid of honor" in pretty much any scenario. Been that way for quite a few years now. She's around for most everything I do, and moreover tends to have silently, slyly been kestone, crane, and lynchpin of whatever it is I'm trying to pull off. For Jon it wasn't so easy, but upon soul searching he's decided that his "best man" should be... a woman. Despite all stupid recent movies to the contrary, that doesn't need to be some super-weird scenario.

Her being a her, though, does seem to be what has me gitchy about the whole thing. (And yes, that was supposed to be a g.) It's not because they've dated, though they did. It was approximately a million years ago, lasted for an extremely short period at the very beginning of their friendship, and couldn't matter less to either one of them. Moreover I've seen them around each other; it ain't there.

It's more that she's a different sort of woman. Which I'm glad of; I don't get along with most girls. I get along with the girls who don't get along with other girls - we're like a weird unspoken club, and if you're in it you know what I'm talking about and if you're not, well, I can't help you because you probably don't like me anyway. But she's extremely hard to read, and despite the fact that she's only in Brooklyn we see her like once a year. She's a good bit older too; more than ten years my elder, as a matter of fact.

And... when Jon and I started dating, she gave him a warning. She told him that he liked me way too much. Reminded him that he hadn't liked the last girl nearly as much, and that when she left she upset him rather badly. That he'd better be careful, because I had the potential to really break his heart.

When he told me about that conversation, ever so long ago - two years at the very least - it told me two things. One, that she was a true friend with a bit of a motherly streak of caring for him. And two, that he actually liked me. He's not really one for the talking about the feelings, so it was a nice little piece of information to get.

Since the engagement, she's been overflowing with congratulations. Or at least, so I hear. I have no reason to suspect that she is anything but happy for us, that she will be anything but flattered to be asked to be in the wedding, and so on, and so forth. And hey, that's a third vegan in the mix! I don't even have to explain to her why I'd prefer that she not wear leather shoes. So what, what is this nag in my brain, this worm in my belly?

I think, in short, that I am intimidated by her. Because she's known him longer, and maybe in different ways than I have. Because she is older, wiser, (thinner), more mysterious, cooler, more interesting, taller, more intense than I can dream of being. Because maybe she'll look prettier than me at the wedding. (But who am I kidding? My sister will be there, so my best bet on being noticed is to actually learn to become invisible.) Because she taps some deep insecurity of mine about not being... enough.

Which of course I'm just going to have to suck up. This didn't rear its head even a little bit until tonight, the eve of our lunching, which is intensely annoying. If it had come earlier maybe I could have worked on it, brought it into therapy or something. Now it will just internalize and make me ill. But this is important to Jon, and at the base of it I really like her.

And maybe all I want is for her to really like me... and think that I'm good enough for him.

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