~1~

Synapse to synapse; the possibility's thin.

I'm dressed up for free drinks and family greetings on your wedding date.

The figures in plastic on yourwedding cake that I took were so real.

He imagines himself there at the wedding, sick to his stomach from a jealous acidic burn.  His revenge is plucking the happy couple off the cake.  He wishes he could replace the grinning groom with himself… 

Crashing through the parlor doors, what was your first reaction?

Screaming, drunk, disorderly: I'll tell you mine.

You were the one but I can't spit it out when the date's been set.

The white routine to be ingested inaccurately. 

He could get drunk and try once again to say the words he wants…but choking them back down his throat is much easier.  There is no pain that way, only silent submission to what will happen.  The phone ringing brings him back to reality.

~

Later on he would not even have to pretend a wedding occurred.  The happily ever after never happened.  He had never been filled with so much relief…and joy.