A lapse in judgment

A question on a personality quiz last week read, "If you were guilty of a deadly sin, it would be?"

From the list, the most logical choice that came to mind was envy. Something in my upbringing, in my personality makes me think that everyone is smarter than me, happier than me, more accomplished than me, more loved than me, luckier than me. It's an awful mindset sometimes to live with because it's easy to go into a situation with a no-win attitude. And sometimes, the logic is to avoid trying because it's better than failing.

In that moment, when I thought about what I am envious of, my ex, Ryan, came to mind. Logically, I know it was for the best that we broke up, but it will always be a sore point for me. Within months of us breaking up, he met the woman he would marry. He moved on so easily, seemingly without a regret or moment to grieve. On the other hand, I suffered tremendously. The stress and depression produced the gray hairs on my head. It took probably a year to emerge from the sadness to a semi-normal mental state. Another year before I didn't catch myself thinking about him more than 10 seconds per day.

Early last year, I learned he was getting married by googling his name and hers. Vi has a unique spelling to her name which made it particularly easy to find them. Among the numerous google finds was a wedding page. In some strange way, knowing they got married helped me close the book on that lost life.

The envy question caused me to think again about them. It seemed logical they might be starting a family soon given her age. I tried looking them up in a couple places to see if they registered for a baby shower. Nothing. (Why do I torture myself with this cyberstalking?)

Next, I simply googled their names. A curious link appeared that listed a wedding album on a photographer's website. The names were correct though the wedding date was a week after their actual date. I knew it was probably them. The actual link I was directed to required a password. After some poking around, however, I found that I could see about 30 pictures without the password.

It was surreal. No doubt the photographer chose photos that reflected his style. The pictures showed the happy couple in a mix of engagement and wedding poses. Ryan still looked handsome. I haven't imagined his face in a long time. Some of the poses were very artsy. Cool, but not that appealing to me. Personally I like real photos, not ones that look like a fashion shoot with abstract poses, people out of focus, and poses at different distances and angles to each other. One or two might be interesting and fun, but when I think about looking back on them 30 years from now, they might seem silly. They had elated smiles on their faces. I was particularly mesmorized by a pose in the wedding attire where he was dipping her slightly and looking into her eyes. I felt sadness that love never developed in our relationship. What went wrong?

Seeing the pictures didn't make me cry. Instead I just felt pensive. It's hard for me to describe the emotions because I felt somewhat detached. Part of me thought it was too riche for me. She had perfect makeup and a lavish train on her dress. He wore long coattails. Maybe they fit well because they live a more yuppy life than what I prefer. While I like nice things, I suppose I never felt in his league because I just don't spend money like that. When I thought about it, I doubt I'd have planned a wedding like that. I wondered how much he wanted that wedding style or if it was all Vi's personality.

They looked happy, and that's good. I know I *should* forgive, and I try for my health. There are enough good things about the time we spent together that I have to appreciate meeting him. The little devil in me still would punch him if I ever ran into him.

It is what it is. I've told myself not to go there again. It serves no purpose to look at that stuff (and yet my curiousity got the better of me). I purposely waited to write about this because I knew I needed a little time. In fact, I forgot all about it this weekend with all the fun I had.