I'm a bad friend
Or
I hate being in the wedding party
Or
Really don't want to miss a moment of DEMF
Whatever it is, it's the knife cutting my heart in half. I'm their daughters godmother for fuck-sake. I also was just in her twin sisters wedding, so this is pretty much (a better version admitting) of the same wedding. At the root of it all, is the simple and maybe selfish fact that I DO NOT want to be away from Detroit for a fraction of a second when that bass drops on the first day of DEMF. The music is my medicine, the sound is my siren.
DEMF, the Detroit electronic music festival, is one acronym that pretty much sums up everything that makes me happy. Booming speakers, masses of half-naked-wet-colorful-party-hardy-animals, substances, energy, beautiful girls, sexy men, and parties that don't stop. Old friends, new friends, single serving friends. Ohh and the booty bouncing. The pop, lock, and drop. The dancing yourself into a frenzy until you're dancing in a puddle of your sweat. Dancing until the sun burns your eyes as you emerge from whatever dark after party cave you crawled into.
When I get depressed, I day dream about DEMF. When my heart is breaking, I think about DEMF. When work makes me want to walk into traffic, I tell myself DEMF is only a few months away. I will work on Christmas, Thanksgiving, and New Years just to get that weekend off. DEMF helped me realize I didn't need that abusive relationship I was in. It was there that I cut and cauterized that malignant growth I call my ex. DEMF was the last time I got to see Amber before she passed away. Hart plaza during that weekend is my sanctuary.
So now I'm torn. Her wedding is the first day of the festival. I'll make it home in time to catch the after parties if I dip out immediately after the reception. It all gets so complicated because my heart is not in it for her. I'll be there, but I'll be so sad. So sad I'm missing the festivities of the first day of the festivals 10 yr anniversary. That guarantees party kid enthusiasm all across the board. Oh God help me, it pains my heart to think I'll be 5 brutal hours from my city.
If I could go back in time, I'd kick Tiffany and Luke in the ass. Kick 'em hard. Some how move their wedding date to the 26th, 27th even! That way I wouldn't have to rush to pack the car after a weeks worth of camping and race back to make it to the after parties. This means I have to pack the night before the wedding. I'm going to be so distracted the whole day. I'm not going to have an appetite or the spirit. Dear god help me if I have to listen to rock 'n roll for a millisecond longer that I have to.
Or
I hate being in the wedding party
Or
Really don't want to miss a moment of DEMF
Whatever it is, it's the knife cutting my heart in half. I'm their daughters godmother for fuck-sake. I also was just in her twin sisters wedding, so this is pretty much (a better version admitting) of the same wedding. At the root of it all, is the simple and maybe selfish fact that I DO NOT want to be away from Detroit for a fraction of a second when that bass drops on the first day of DEMF. The music is my medicine, the sound is my siren.
DEMF, the Detroit electronic music festival, is one acronym that pretty much sums up everything that makes me happy. Booming speakers, masses of half-naked-wet-colorful-party-hardy-animals, substances, energy, beautiful girls, sexy men, and parties that don't stop. Old friends, new friends, single serving friends. Ohh and the booty bouncing. The pop, lock, and drop. The dancing yourself into a frenzy until you're dancing in a puddle of your sweat. Dancing until the sun burns your eyes as you emerge from whatever dark after party cave you crawled into.
When I get depressed, I day dream about DEMF. When my heart is breaking, I think about DEMF. When work makes me want to walk into traffic, I tell myself DEMF is only a few months away. I will work on Christmas, Thanksgiving, and New Years just to get that weekend off. DEMF helped me realize I didn't need that abusive relationship I was in. It was there that I cut and cauterized that malignant growth I call my ex. DEMF was the last time I got to see Amber before she passed away. Hart plaza during that weekend is my sanctuary.
So now I'm torn. Her wedding is the first day of the festival. I'll make it home in time to catch the after parties if I dip out immediately after the reception. It all gets so complicated because my heart is not in it for her. I'll be there, but I'll be so sad. So sad I'm missing the festivities of the first day of the festivals 10 yr anniversary. That guarantees party kid enthusiasm all across the board. Oh God help me, it pains my heart to think I'll be 5 brutal hours from my city.
If I could go back in time, I'd kick Tiffany and Luke in the ass. Kick 'em hard. Some how move their wedding date to the 26th, 27th even! That way I wouldn't have to rush to pack the car after a weeks worth of camping and race back to make it to the after parties. This means I have to pack the night before the wedding. I'm going to be so distracted the whole day. I'm not going to have an appetite or the spirit. Dear god help me if I have to listen to rock 'n roll for a millisecond longer that I have to.
2 comments:
I don't think you're a 'bad friend'.
I think you're a pretty damn good friend, putting her needs before your own.
I don't think many would do that for someone else.
Yeah you so are NOT a bad friend. I know for a fact Im a horrible friend because I would have said I was sick or had a family accident and missed out on the wedding to go to the festival! I'm horrible!
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