The Boiling of the Bones

25. The Big Day

Summer rolled around and the day of Sophia and Brad's wedding approached in mid-July. It was going to be a ridiculously extravagant production at a cathedral back in Rochester. The ceremony would be immediately followed by a horse and carriage ride to a huge party at the country club. Then the happy couple planned to dash off on a romantic honeymoon in Cancun.

I listened politely as Soph enthusiastically ran through the details. As a friend, I thought I could discuss anything with her, but this stuff was painful. I put on a happy face and tried to be supportive. The last time I saw her as a single woman we went for a walk in Central Park on a Sunday afternoon. Soph tried in vain to talk me into going.

"Will you come?"

"I don't think so."

"It would mean a lot to me if you were there."

I wanted to be supportive and be happy for her, but I couldn't do it. It was supposed to be all about her happiness, but all I could do was selfishly think of my loss.

So, I skipped it.

I stayed in New York. I didn't say anything to her, I didn't want to spoil her big day, but it was a rough day for me.

I sent her a card and wished her well. I said it was going to take a little getting used to and was probably best if she gave me some space for a while. Thinking of her and Brad was nauseating, absolutely gut wrenching. It was so emotionally exhausting I couldn't do it anymore.

She was hurt and I sincerely apologized, but I told her I still had feelings for her. It was going to take time to adjust, but in the end, after I'd found someone else, I was sure we could still be friends. Maybe one day I could even become friends with Brad. That would take a lot of effort on my part. But I wanted to be a forgiving person. If he treated her well, someday I'd get there.

She had to know it would be awkward for an ex to attend her wedding. Certainly, she'd recognize the nature of our friendship had to change. What we had was a flirtatious relationship that would be no longer appropriate for a married woman. Did she not know I was still madly in love with her?

I wanted to maintain a loving, committed and fulfilling friendship with her but neither of us knew how to navigate the appropriate boundaries. I couldn't continue to have romantic feelings for her, and I couldn't just it off at the flick of a switch.

She reluctantly agreed it was better to drift apart for a while than to say or do something we both might regret.

On the day of her wedding my heart was truly broken. I was crushed. I went to the top of the Empire State Building and thought about what might have been. I stayed all day, until the observation deck closed at midnight, clinging to the irrational idea that she'd back out at the last second and come running to find me. But it never happened. She went through with it and married Brad.

We would've been really good together. We would've been happy. I sincerely believed I could've made her happier than Brad, but he was probably more financially stable. He'd put a nice roof over her head, and they'd live in a respectable community with good friends, and she'd send her kids to a good school, and she'd have everything she ever dreamed of, and her parents and friends would all be proud of her.

I was living in denial. Ever since I got home from my trip, I thought she'd eventually dump Brad. I played the supportive friend card, but I was secretly waiting and hoping for things to fall apart and then I'd be there for her, and we'd get back together again. It never happened. Brad was treating her better than he had in high school. They had a healthy relationship, and I only had myself to blame. I blew it by going on my trip and not calling her. I had my chance. I had to get over her and let it go. I had to find someone else myself and move on.

I was on the road more with Sweet Poison and we were desperately writing and recording our own songs. I lost myself in my work working all hours of the day and night to get a CD released.

We presented the record label with twenty-eight songs they rejected one by one before finally liking one enough to put on a CD. We went through the same exercise over and over writing and recording a ton of songs. It was exhausting. I had no idea how much effort went into it.

It took six months with tons of marathon recording sessions to get enough songs recorded for a CD. Finally, we got there. In the first week of December, the owner of the record label threw a big CD release party at the biggest music store in New York. The guys popped bottles of bubbly and drank and celebrated. The crowd was pretty big, and everyone was buying our CD. All the effort seemed to be paying off.

Before the CD officially dropped, the label's promo dept send advance copies out to DJs and radio stations. They hyped it up in Rolling Stone magazine and sent out posters with promotional stuff to record stores. They set up a few live radio interviews for us. We had a website with a fan club. Over the next few weeks, we held our breath waiting for it to take off. I listened to the radio station every free minute I had.

Two weeks later I heard one of our songs on the radio one time and that was it. It bombed. We sold a total of three hundred copies nationwide—probably most of them on the night of our release party. The label lost a ton of money. We were all so disappointed we blamed each other for the failure. We got in an epic fight and broke up for good. I'd pushed so hard, trying to make it happen, I needed a break anyway.

After a few weeks of downtime, I started playing a few shows as a solo artist. I put the finishing touches on my big hit song inspired by Soph. I titled it, Elysium. It was basically a song about Avalon, but I couldn't use that name, it was a special secret shared between me and Soph alone.

I tried something different and signed up to play at a bluegrass music festival in Catskills. I thought I'd debut the song in front of an audience to gauge their reaction.

It was fall and the leaves on the trees were pretty and the air was cool and crisp. I thought it might feel nice to spend a few days up in the fresh mountain air. I stopped at an orchard and had some fresh apple cider and doughnuts. I was starting to feel good again. That feeling of being alive and invigorated by life.