My Non-Wedding

I left Vancouver nearly six months ago. At once, it feels like a lifetime ago, and it feels like yesterday. During the past six months, I have sat at my desk, on my couch, or laid in bed wondering what might have been had I not left. Today, the answer is clear.

Today, had I not run for, and away from my life, I would be a married man. Today was my wedding day.

I can stand (were I not at my desk working) and say with confidence that I made the right decision … for me, that is. You might wonder if I feel any regret or remorse for what I did six months ago. To a degree, yes, I do. I ruined the hopes and dreams of a human being, regardless of what she did to me. Today, she is thinking about what might have been. But I am not thinking of her.

I am thinking of me. I am thinking that I haven’t been this free and happy in over two and a half years. I have been responsible for my own choices, my own decisions, and my own mistakes. I am happy with who I have become, and with who I am.

Weddings are supposed to be one of the happiest days in someone’s life. Many of my friends (nearly all of my university friends) are now married. I think I am one of a very small handful who are not. I have only been to two weddings so far — that of a co-worker, and I was dragged to the other. I missed two weddings I was invited to because of financial reasons. I missed seeing these happy days.

Yet as I sit here and type, I cannot imagine a happier day for myself. I wake up each and every day and am thankful for what I did. Yes, these past couple of weeks have been very difficult on myself, with tight deadlines and a heavy workload, but even though I might gripe about my workload, I am truly happy. I would hope everyone can feel at least as much joy as I do, for it is truly exhilarating.

Today is also the wedding day of one of my former colleagues at Radical Entertainment … of one of my friends. Right now, she is probably in Quebec, saying her vows to her long-time partner. (This is more speculation, as plans change and I haven’t spoken to her since I left. Not to mention that I don’t know what time the ceremony is supposed to be.) For them, I raise my cup in toast. (I hope you don’t mind warm, stale Coke — it’s all I have at the moment.)

Today used to be a date I dreaded would one day come. But it came without fanfare, and it would have come without notice, had I chosen not to say something. It is an ordinary day, like any other. And I will revel in it, just as I have every other ordinary day, because there is nothing more special than happiness.