Pre-Wedding Jitters

Dear Peanut,

We're all moved in. Everything is all neat and organized except the office.

The office which was your room.

I have started calling it "Nick's office" even though he keeps correcting me, "Our office". I don't go in there. There's too many memories.

It's much safer in Clarice's room, now our room, because my only memories of that room are of snooping for sex toys. Bwahaha.

They're getting married tomorrow. Clarice and Trevor. Your brother's getting married.

Thinking about that just makes me think about how far WE have come.

I mean it's funny how it all started with Trevor.

I remember the first time I saw him. It was at a funeral. Instead of being all respectful of the dead, I was checking out guys. I thought he looked like Mark. But he would be a better Mark because he wasn't 1,500 miles away or a douchebag. At least in my head. I was dreaming of a happy romantic life with the stranger boy who had on cute nerdy glasses and kind of looked like a non-douchey, lives in my city, version of Mark.

So when Jimi was all "Hey meet my new friend Trevor." I was all "HELLS YEAH!" And then we hung out. A LOT. And then I realized this guy who looked a little bit like Mark and lived just around the corner from me? He was kind of a freaking douche bag!

But he had an awesome sister. An awesome sister I was COMPLETELY in non-lesbian love with.

So I started hanging out with you all the time instead of him. And he was all pissed off that you stole all of his friends with your awesome magical boob powers.

I remember that like it was yesterday.

... I talked to your mom a little. She's excited about the slideshow she made for the wedding and sad that you couldn't help her with it...

So tomorrow is going to be painful. The wedding. Everything about it is just going to scream "NICOLE!!!" at me.

Nick's boss asked him if he wanted to work that night. It was a tempting offer. We could use the money and I could use an excuse not to deal with feeling like I've just been kicked in the face by a horse on steroids. But I think if I chickened out of going, you'd be pissed off.

I can just hear it.

"HOW DID YOU NOT GO TO MY BROTHER'S WEDDING?! ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?! ARE. YOU. FREAKING. KIDDING ME?!!!!!!!! *Insert my first, middle and last name here, said like a swear word*" And then you'd punch me in the boob.

God. I miss you.

I have to go do non-crying stuff now.

I love you so much it's retarded,
Leedol