Dear friends, fellow Celestial Herd members, wonderful Uncle Moony, and all you other wonderful people that dropped supportive comments on the past few stories. Thank you all for letting me get this off my chest as it unfolded and helping me keep a bit more of my sanity as I rode the crazy train to its depot where I could finally disembark and return to the roundhouse of rational thought.

I thought that I would end this saga with a relieved sigh and a nice growler of beer and leisurely type out amusing little antidotes of whatever antics Bridezilla would come up with.

However…

The week leading up to and the weekend of the wedding was so fucked up I am currently typing this feeling like I jus crawled through the Shawshank Redemption pipe and I now sit in front of my computer half slumped with a 12 quart mason jar of moonshine cut with tropical punch sitting at the ready.

In all honesty, probably not too different from how many of us ended 2020. This wedding has left a similar feeling. And in the spirit of escaping 2020 as well, I have decided not to make this into a two parter and give you all the whole story as I work on emptying this 3 gallon jar of moonshine. Please forgive spelling/grammar mistakes as the events of this chronicle and I inviably go downhill.

So when we had left our bridal party of derangement (Megan the titular bridezilla, Felicity her cinnamon bun of a spouse to be, Angie aka miracle worker and recently graduated therapist, and the maid of honor, your narrator, in the person of myself) there was another bit of drama that just need not have happened with Joanne the tailor quitting making Felicity’s dress because of Megan trying to shift blame about getting fabric in a timely manner onto Joanne and out-right lying about it as well.

On a side note, because the whole situation was just so nonsensical to me, any other time during this debacle of wedding planning, when Megan started some drama there was some benefit to her that she was trying get, be it the sword fight or anything else that she was told no to. But in the case with Joanne there seemed to be no benefit to have; there was no argument with Joanne, even if Felicity had dropped the ball a bit in taking too long to get her fabric, there was no reason to jump on the defensive.

So readying my best autodidact theories (better known as an armchair opinion but sometimes I like sounding smarter than I am. Though usually the best way to get through compromising situations is to look a bit stupider than you really are) I came to the conclusion that Felicity was feeling bad about the gaffe with the fabric; Felicity was very on edge about the cost of said fabric as she was trying to pay for it herself rather than getting it from the wedding budget or simply taking Megan’s offer of letting her cover Felicity’s half of a few of the bills that month so she could have the extra cash. Combine that with Joanne needing to get a hold of her about when she was going to get it, I’m guessing it set off Felicity’s depression a bit. Felicity had come from an abusive home and relationship where she was screamed at and blamed for everything. I think that is what made Megan think she needed to shift the blame to make Felicity feel better; essentially saying it was someone else’s fault and she wasn’t to blame. Which is kind of the right idea just in the complete opposite direction. Instead of shifting blame and going into the “it’s not my fault” trope, (and ultimately putting her back in the victim role) Felicity should have been told that no on was mad at her, no one was yelling, there was absolutely no conflict, she just needed to do the thing. Not all disagreements mean that everyone hates you and is going to empty the missal silos on you. In other words, don’t take it so personally. And I know how hard that can be, I went through it myself and getting out of a depressive ‘everyone hates me’ mindset, especially in times of stress, is no easy task. What helped me personally was to stop thinking of myself as victimized and helpless which made me realize that not everyone hates me and just puts up with me because of whatever reason. I know very much that coping mechanisms are not a one size fits all type of thing but sometimes when it gets a little out of hand, a tiny bit of tough love may go a long way, even if, much to the shock of the 'up the pull yourself up by the bootstraps' kind of people, depression cannot be cured with a bottle of scotch and a boot up the ass.

A side note here, Joanne also gave me an insight on this as well and, after the wedding weekend, we can safely say that Megan was mainly concerned about her image more than anything else; being seen as the perfect innocent victim. Crying so many crocodile tears mixed alternatively with bursts of fabricated righteous indignation that I didn’t need to keep up with the Amber Heard-Johnny Depp trail, cause I had a real life demonstration.

Check that first box for narcissism.

Our next stop on the crazy train (because I love an over extended metaphor) was rose petals. It was the week of the wedding, a few days prior Angie had been contacted by Megan with a desperate need for rose petals. The latest and greatest idea she had , which of course to her meant that Angie had always know about it and it was something Megan had always wanted. In the case of the rose petals, Megan decided that she just had to have a send off where they would showered with rose petals as they retired for the evening.

I frankly would have encouraged Megan to insist on pearls rather than rose petals, it would have kept with her impression that she was a princess to be catered to and I’m a pretty good shot with improvised throwing weapons. Alas that axes are not considered traditional wedding adornments. Anyway, as it goes poor Angie once again had the unpleasant job of calling Megan up with a few minor concerns. Like who the hell did Megan think was going to cleaning up said rose petals after they've had their send off? The venue stated anything thrown at them other than on the lawn wasn't going to be cleaned up by them, and as sure as there are tantrums to bridezillas, Angie and myself certainly weren’t going to be cleaning them up either. Angie vented to me how she had to listen to and talk down Megan for 45 minutes while she literally cried and screamed about we had talked about the idea of a send off with flower petals, again another lie because Angie had her notes from the meetings and the only flower petals discussed were for the flower girl. But since it was something she wanted (for all of 10 minutes) Megan just had to have it or it would be the end of her vision, the compromising of the quality of the wedding, and, indeed, would see Cuthullu rise from the sea to bring tentacled doom beyond the dreams of any hentai fan. But depending on one’s personal preferences, that may or may not be a bad day. Thought at this point I think I would have preferred to take my chances with The Sleeper of R’leyh, because everyone loves Cuthullu. Really they do! (and I'm pretentious like that to use a Lovecraft reference.)

In the end Angie talked Megan down to having the rose petals but having them be thrown at them at the end of the ceremony when they walked back down the aisle together. Since the ceremony was outdoors on the lawn of the venue the owners and staff would rake them up afterwards as general site maintenance. I’m sure that the compromise just barely passed muster with Megan but she went on to planning for said petals. Getting some calculations off the internet, Megan came to the conclusion that we would need 6000 petals for her purpose. I decided to not even argue about how calculations for this works, I’ve poured enough concrete in my professional life to rattle off volume calculations faster than Megan could try gaslighting techniques and I can tell you that no one sits there and literally counts exact numbers and who the hell did she think was going to literally count flower petals like that? But I’m pretty sure Megan had visions of little bluebirds flying the prettiest roses over to garden fairies that would gently shake the petals of each and every rose into a gilded music box that played their wedding song before giving the petals a sprinkling of pixie dust and a pep talk before being sent off for her wedding.

I’m not even joking when I say that.

When Megan contacted me on Monday the week of the wedding (while I was at work too) it was to tell me that she had dropped the ball on ordering the petals. She asked if I would go down to my local farmers market that also does floral and pick up some petals. Now, with several months of bridezilla experience to my name, I normally would have told her that I couldn’t and she would have to deal with it. I honestly should have told her this no matter what because of all the crap Angie and I had been through and make her deal with not getting her way on a stupid last minute idea she just couldn’t live without. This however would also mean dealing with weeping, wailing, a blown up phone, and rising sea levels as Cuthullu re-emerged from the depths to answer his chanting cults. They must have been chanting about rose petals.

On the practical side I had also taken the task of getting the programs printed out a week before so Angie didn’t have too and taking something off her plate as she had two dresses to finish plus everything that goes into coordinating a wedding. Megan had paid me the $120 back promptly the next day having gotten a loan from an out of state friend (we’ll get to that poor man later) to help cover wedding costs so I agreed to get the petals, saving Angie and myself the drama, tears, and baleful cult chants.

So I went to my local place and went to the floral department. As I suspected, they don’t sit there and count out petals for the 6000 that Megan said she needed, they just fill a bag with them and send you on your merry way. Also for such a big order, they needed at least a week notice before they could fill it. It’s almost like fresh flowers are one of the harder things to coordinate because of current supply chains being backed up and getting the timing right so said flowers can be arranged and not wilt is also a time consuming thing. Something that shouldn’t be left to the last minute because someone decided she would just die without this last minute idea.

The store fortunately had a cooler with ready made flower arrangements plus a few boxes of random rose petals. I managed to grab about 6 of them that were roughly the size of take-away boxes. I had a convo with Angie and we both agreed that it was what Megan was getting and she would just have to deal with it along with the one random box of pink petals with the 5 boxes of white ones. If she complained we were going to say those were for the flower girl. After I had checked out and the petals were all bagged up and in my truck I sent her a text that I had the petals and the total was $60 dollars. To which she replied:

"Is it okay if I pay you back after my paycheck on June 2?"

I really should have known better by now. But I had been paid back for the cost of the programs promptly and had thanked her profusely for doing so as I told her that I was the only one working at the moment in my household and its not an easy thing when you're paying a mortgage, daycare, and all the other bills that come from having a 2-year-old on one budget. Not to mention it was the end of the month (wedding was the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend) and I had everything saved and budgeted to make sure that the bills that were due on the first of the month were ready to go, so no, I could not wait till June 2 to be paid back even the relatively small amount of $60 because a budget is a budget and it doesn't allow for last minute rose petals that a bridezilla has already admitted to dropping the ball on. The worst part was that I may have been willing to work with her if she had just admitted at the first that she wouldn't be able to pay me back till the next week. At least that would have been honest and less slimy because I'm more than certain that she had it planned out that way hoping that I wouldn't have any other choice than to accept it since I had already bought the petals.

She didn't take into account that receipts are a things and I could very easily return them and get my money back. Though I didn't threaten her with that I did tell her that I couldn't wait to be paid because of the budget reasons stated above and she went with her usual first tactic, the guilt trip:

"SHIT! I guess I'll have to use my credit card I am majorly overextended because I've had to pay for most of the wedding by myself I might actually not have enough right now for the mortgage to come out without bouncing my credit card is also almost maxed out"

Given my own financial state I had very little sympathy for this and, not so much from knowing better when dealing with Megan's histrionics, but from sheer lack of fucks to give, I grey rocked her for the rest of the day. I mean I do have a toddler it's not like they take up a lot of your time and attention anyway right? At about 10pm that night I got a notification that payment had been sent to my account for the $60 bucks. So after a Redbull hoping to get those wings and fly far, far away from the whole mess, I messaged Megan back telling her I had gotten the payment and thanking her for it. She replied:

"I had to pull the last $130 out of savings, use $50 that was supposed to go to the honeymoon and Felicity borrowed $100 from her boss all so that we would have enough for the mortgage, enough to pay you and make sure I didn't have a negative balance when the mortgage comes out."

Again, I left it at that with even less fucks left to give. It was almost like this was all a last minute idea that she didn't have the budget for. I commiserated with Angie and we both held onto our asses with both hands as the weekend of the wedding approached. That week as well I went over to Angie's to help with dress making and hear her individual woes of fitting Megan. Megan had of course destined a ridiculous custom dress with Angie with a full skirt, train, corset top, huge sleeves, sparkly crystals and an obscene amount of lace, the lace being used as an over lay to the gown and the train was made of the lace as well. Angie had to hand cut, hand layout, and hand sew at least 10 feet and 10 tiers of lace to construct that train. It was breathtaking and I'm just sorry something so gorgeous was wasted on Megan. When Megan saw that bit amazing tailoring the first thing she said was :

"I can see a little more white on this side than the other, you're going to fix that right?" and "Its looking more regal than Elven, I'm sure about it." The damn was almost done and there was a week left. Just typing that I had to take hit off my mason jar. I think I will also be taking a hit from an herb that grows on god's green earth as well because I think this situation counts as needed for medicinal purposes.

Angie had to do their final fitting to get everything done in literally two days and Megan couldn't even bothered to show up on time. They were over an hour late because "We had trouble getting up", trouble getting up in the morning? Telling that to Angie that had been burning the candle at both ends for weeks and Megan couldn't even be bothered to show up on time by setting an alarm? Megan also showed up with two regular dress that a seam come loose or such like as was asking Angie if she could fix them on top of finishing both their wedding gowns because she really wanted to take them on her honeymoon. Almost 40 years old and she had not grasped the concept of threading a needle and putting in a semi-straight line of stiches. She claimed it was because she didn't know how to sew a straight line.

Or read a tutorial, or watch a how-to on Youtube, or maybe even just remembering how Granny used her pin cushion. But when one is trying to cover up their lazy selfishness with a mystique of helplessness, you really need to go all in and be such a damsel in distress that every fedora in a 10 mile radius suddenly tips of its own accord as the magnetic pull directs the fedoras due M'lady-wards.

So to give a bit of timeline: the wedding was on Sunday, the bachelorette party was Saturday, and the rehearsal was Friday. The venue was about an hour from where I live and about a half hour from Megan's house. So Friday night we all get to the venue and do the rehearsal. A few couldn't make it either due to work obligations or COVID but we were able to get the ground work down for it. The ceremony was rather ridiculous in my opinion, at nearly an hour long it contained a Christian ceremony and sermon, a pagan handfasting, Celtic wedding vows, a rings ceremony, a Christian hymn, a sand mixing ceremony, a rose ceremony, lighting a Christ candle, and a Viking mead cup ceremony followed by a Christian Benediction. While we were all dressed like Elves from Lord of the Rings complete with ears.

Now you may have noticed that, In fact, many of these things are not like the other, but the random hodge-podge of confusion seemed to be keeping with the theme of this whole debacle. I tried my best to give the dinner afterward a miss but I ended up going to Megan's house for it and that's where I ran into the next bit of fuckery.

To refresh the background Megan and Felicity (Though I'm not honestly not sure about Felicity on it) are part of the polyamorist community. I don't get it myself but you know what we say around the Moon Cult, long as you're not hurting anybody, you do you. But that cavoite was thoroughly broken as I was about to find out.

At the rehearsal Megan was being really cozy with what seemed to be a random guy, lots of hand holding and canoodling and normally I wouldn't think much of this with a poly couple, but it seemed odd to be making the goo-goo eyes at someone other than your spouse-to-be-in-two-days at a time like this I also noticed that were a distinct lack of canoodling with Felicity. The fact that Felicity was more than usually quiet, barely cracking a smile and always on the verge of bursting into tears didn't help that odd feeling I was getting. Now I'm not familiar with the rules of poly, but I don't think someone should bursting into tears two days before the happiest day of their life. It turned out that this guy, Aaron, was Megan's new partner in their poly relationship. Felicity was nearly in tears all night because they had made an agreement that they wouldn't start looking for other partners until at least after the wedding as it was a day that suppose to be just about them.

And this is where the disgust officially begins to start. Its one thing when an asshole is ignoring my boundaries with the sword fight debacle, I have the capacity to walk away and sever those emotional and social ties with little to no fallout. Felicity however did not have such a luxury being in an relationship and vulnerable because of mental health issues from past abuse. When I was able to get a quiet minute with her at the rehearsal dinner I got the full story of who Aaron was (Megan had flown his up from Texas of all places, we're near the Canadian border for perspective, to be at the wedding I guess that's where the rest of the money went so she couldn't pay me back for the petals) and that she was crying and upset because of the agreement to not to look for partners to till after the wedding. I told Felicity this was something that could not wait and she had to sit both of them down and talk this out. I maybe a boring vanilla, monogamist with a blue collar job in an exclusive heteronormal marriage (that's been gong strong for 7 years as of May) but like Moonhorse said on the last installment I can still have fucking empathy, and just being a decent fucking human being had me saying "An agreement in a relationship is an agreement, no trying to find loopholes or weasel around it, poly or not, this is not an okay thing to do to your partner that you supposedly care about, and frankly this would be a deal breaker for me because how are you supposed to trust someone that tries to find a loophole like this two days before the wedding?"

Megan's explanation, according to Felicity, was that this wasn't breaking their agreement because she and Aaron weren't "Official", meaning they're weren't having sex... yet... Speaking as someone who was basically used a toy between a couple (Scumbag 2.0 and his wife) they would be very cute and affectionate between one another in front of me quite often when it was just us while I would have to sit and see them flaunt their relationship and absolutely no kind of affection was shown to me but plenty of belittling. Throwing it in my face what I didn't have and they did (while they were keeping me isolated without my knowledge) making me feel left out in the cold by *everyone* because there was something wrong with me so I had better just take what was thrown my way by them and just put up with it. That is what I saw being done to Felicity. What's worse, being physically cheated on or being told its all alright because of some weird relationship rules and the person you're suppose to marry in two days being kissy and cuddly with someone else but its okay because you're not "official"?

My urge to vomit was high but acting as Felicity's cheerleader did give her the confidence to confront Megan about the situation but I don't think it got resolved. I had to eventually go home to my own family that needed me, and as much I would have just liked to have told Felicity to pack her bags and come with me, the hardest part was telling myself I told Felicity what I was seeing, how it wasn't okay or normal as far as I understand poly relationships (They shouldn't be an excuse for abuse as its never excusable) and that Felicity is an autonomous being and has to make her own decisions. The reason I stayed in my own abusive situation was because I was so brainwashed and gaslighted that I couldn't see the situation for what it was on top of not knowing what they were doing behind my back, since none of my so-called friends ever told me what was going on. It makes me of the mindset that not telling someone what you see about their situation makes you just as guilty as the abuser. So I had to be satisfied with that I followed my morality as far as I could without physically dragging her from the situation and not getting involved as a mediator. As I learned from the Queen of Foxes and her fucked up mom, I am not qualified to do so and my own mental health won't allow for it. At some point you have to stop setting yourself on fire.

To my disgust, Megan came up with the "You're going to have to trust me" line and Felicity accepted it. Check box two for narcissism: Doesn't matter what she agreed to with her partner, Megan wants it! Felicity must have misunderstood.

And that was just the rehearsal, there's still two more days to get through.

So the next day, Saturday, was the bachelorette party. I had planned for a day at the spa, followed by dinner then wrap the evening up at the strip club. This is where I need to introduce Jason aka The Godfather aka the Bankroll behind all this. I had talked with Jason a few times over the phone (he was from out of state) and we hit it off. He's an exceedingly generous man that wants nothing more out of life than some kindness and time to himself. As a fellow homebody married to a hermit, we understood each other and got along right away. This also means that he's the kind of man that it takes a lot to piss him off but if you have managed to fuck up with him, you have majorly, majorly fucked up. The longer the fuse the bigger the explosion.

Jason had opted to do the spa with us and then go to venue to have his me time, and cook something for us to munch on after the evening was over. Angie and I both thought that was kinda weird given we were going to have dinner after the spa and we were having an early night to begin with because the wedding was the next day so the idea was to *not* get completely shit-faced but Megan insisted that having something to eat at the end of the night would make sure we had something to eat to help us sober up after. That's not how sobering up works; drinking more booze than your liver can break down is what makes your blood alcohol rise and makes you drunk, thus you need to wait for your liver to catch up. Its just science. But since when has logic been a factor in this whole trash fire?

The spa and dinner go well, relaxing and fun and I was just starting to think I might be able to get through it and maybe even have some fun: spa, dinner, drinks and tities? It sounds like a sure-fire set up. Even if Aaron came along with us to dinner and strip club and my job was to keep them from getting too familiar, or at least keep them from getting drunk and shagging in the bathroom, as per request from both Felicity and Angie. Angie was giving dinner a miss as she had too much stuff to finish and Megan Felicity were doing the not seeing each other 24 hours before the wedding.

I will say right now there is no way I can be a fair judge of Aaron's character as I was far too close too the situation and biased to give any benefit of, well, anything. It's hard to find a doubt when you see everything unfold right in front of your face. The only benefit of a doubt I can give him is I doubt the common sense of someone who comes up from Texas to within 90 miles of the Canadian boarder and brings no money along. Even if your ticket, bed and board are covered, I think it's reasonable to suspect that you more than likely are going to run into a few expenses along the way. Maybe that's my Midwest sensibilities, the same drive that won't allow me to leave home without a sweater, sunblock, and an umbrella, and won't allow me to throw away a cottage cheese container because Tupperware costs more than cottage cheese, (Midwesterners part with money slightly less readily than tigers part with their teeth) but I also doubt the motives of someone coming into a poly relationship with a couple that's getting married in two days and not taking all partners into consideration. I maybe on the outside looking in, but I know it takes at least two tango. I don't think anyone could be this involved, and it being two days before the wedding, and watching one partner bursting into tears over them being there and not get just the shadow of a thought, the tiniest prick of an inkling, a suspicion so sneaking it could have been trained at the Sneaking Suspicion College Of Assassins or maybe just David Mitchell asking "Are we the baddies?" to think that just maybe its a bad idea to try this relationship(s) right now?

When we get to the strip club, we order our drinks and start relaxing in and I get something innoxious enough to give me some stress relief but not strong enough to do anything but genuinely think I may have shot with Chris Evens if somehow given the opportunity, like maybe if he got lost in the frozen tundra and was being chase by wolves and my house was the only viable shelter? Both concepts are equally likely. ... yes, I ordered a cosmopolitan.

We are roughly 45 minutes in and I get a call from Angie, the other maid of honor, April had just been in a car wreak. All we knew was that she was in the hospital and her partner (Megan's roommate) was in tears along with Felicity as April is a good friend of hers. Megan got on her phone to Felicity, not to tell her how horrible the situation was and that she was coming home straight away, it was that she going to send Jason from the cabin to pick her up and take her to cabin so she wouldn't have to be alone. When Megan finished her conversation I was able to have a conversation and say "Hey, Felicity is really upset, I think you should go be with her tonight."

Megan answered with "I really need this night out tonight though and need some time to relax!"

I think I felt the neurons in my frontal lobe start to disconnect as the situation was not computing, again I told her that I understood that she need some time to unwind from all the wedding planning (gods know Angie and I fucking did) but this was an emergency. There would be other parties and it didn't mean we could do this all again another time. If she wanted we could stay for about an hour as it would take that amount of time for Jason to pick Felicity up and be back at the cabin, she could have a bit of time at the club, and we were going to be having an early night anyway, and she could still be there for Felicity.

Megan told me she would think about and it promptly stomped off declaring: "My nights ruined!!"

This is about the time my face became replaced with The Blue Screen Of Death. A problem had been detected and my brain had been shut down to prevent damage because how was an reaction to such news *not* 'oh my god is everyone alright? I need to get to my distraught soon to be spouse and make sure she's alright!' But I also found myself in a situation. We had all carpooled here with a designated driver and my vehicle was still at the venue. I had images of being dumped at the bar with no way home and facing an expensive cab fare as I had no friend in the close vicinity I could easily walk to in the middle of the night. A few days later when commiserating with Joanne of the dress debacle I learned how many friends I had that would have come and picked me up in an emergency which was both a comforting and shame-inducing epiphany, but like I said, Blue Screen Of Death had replaced my thought processes because I just could not comprehend this level of selfishness in a person, especially the literal day before their wedding when you're suppose to be on Cloud Nine with your new spouse thoroughly enjoying the overdose of dopamine and admiring the butterflies the other person gives you when they look at you with the puppy-dog eyes.

Back at the table Angie texted me asking what the plan was and where we were, if we were planning to go back to the venue, go to Megan's house or if we were still at the club. I texted back the truth, Megan had arranged for Felicity to get a ride to the venue for the night, we however were still at the club as Megan didn't want to leave yet. And that was the final bridge too far for Angie. Megan got a call from Angie, thoroughly, and rightfully chewing her out about not being a supportive partner when the other was in need and just how could she think of anything else other than Felicity and their mutual friend April, whose condition we had no information on, were in an emergency and all she could think of was her party?

After that conversation Megan was breathing fire; coming back to the table and screaming about how Angie thought she was bad partner and "So I don't get tities and to get drunk because Felicity is upset!! And it's making me look like a bad person!! I'm not!!"

I kept my silence in the matter which other people enabled her, telling her to fuck the situation, tonight was her night. I only said I had already given my opinion, Megan would do what she wanted. After Megan had stomped off to the bathroom I was fielding calls from poor Jason, who was also rightfully asking where the hell Megan was. I told him the situation and that I couldn't make Megan do anything and as I had no vehicle I was kinda stuck. Again Blue Screen Of Death taking over, I freely admit, that I have a tendency to choke in these situations cause I honestly just can't think of what to do. If I had my vehicle I would have left right then and checked out how both Felicity and April were doing. Angie was also so pissed off with Megan that she told Megan that were so no way their friendship could be okay after all this. She would fulfil her obligation as coordinator and bridesmaid but afterwards they were done.

After fielding Jason's calls and letting him know the situation I went to bathroom to see what Megan wanted to do. She promptly told me that it wasn't okay what I had told Angie.

"Its not oaky that you told Angie that I didn't want to leave. Now she thinks I'm bad partner and a bad person and I'm not like that!"

I asked if there was something I missed. I hadn't lied to Angie, she asked for an update and I told her the truth. How was that not okay?

"Felicity said that it was okay for me stay, she wants me to have night out and she's fine!"

Sure she did. Amazing how that became a thing suddenly. How does the Narcissist Prayer go?

That didn't happen. And if it did, it wasn't that bad. And if it was, that's not a big deal. And if it is, that's not my fault. And if it was, I didn't mean it. And if I did, you deserved it.

Check Box Three! It was my fault that Angie was mad her and is ending their friendship! I also wouldn't apologize for telling Angie the truth, even if Felicity did say that it was alright she stayed at the club,(which I doubt) I didn't know she had. Even in that scenario I did nothing wrong and wasn't going to apologize. After Megan had a few more phone conversations, Angie and Felicity respectively, we finally, finally left the club and headed for Megan's house where Felicity and Jason were.

When we got there is when all hell broke loose. Megan stomped up to Felicity and it nearly an hour of her screaming and berating Felicity for making Megan look bad to Angie, because of course it was her fault the Megan looks bad. Not that she needed the help. Jason and I both had no idea how to intervene in this or what Felicity wanted. I'm not proud of my behavior, maybe if I were a better or stronger person in matters of emotion I would have broken them up and told Megan to stop being a bitch and get this sorted and tell Felicity she needed to speak for herself and stop taking this. I feel like my whole brain had gone into witness protection and was sending coded messages. Maybe (pouring soothing oils on the eternal fire of my self-reflection and doubt) my rational brain was telling me there was no point in trying to fly in and squash the argument like a hero because there was no way to ended it like that. Megan would always find a way to make it not her fault and make herself the perfect victim and everything would be better if everyone just did what she said. There is no winning with a narcissist. There are many times I felt the world would be nicer place is Megan had gotten the occasional slap but it would only have made the world nicer for a few seconds and make my hand hurt.

But my concern had also shifted from Felicity to her 10 year old son (I have not mentioned him till now for obvious reasons) not wanting him to hear and or see this blow up, Jason and I put him in Jason's car and kept him entertained. When Felicity came out for a breather, Jason and I both tried to give her some support, told her that we would take her anywhere she wanted to go because this wasn't right what was happening she had a right to her emotions and she had done nothing wrong. We would take her anywhere if she wanted to pack her bags and Jason would put her up in a hotel for as long as she needed. She instead decided to go back in and 'work it out'. That feeling of helplessness still haunts me. Jason and I tried everything besides physically picking her up and putting her in the car but I did put my number in her phone that night.

When things finally quieted down, Jason and myself drove back to the venue with Angie on the phone with us as we tried to make sense of what just happened. All three of us were officially done. We would do what we said we were going to but beyond that we were done with Megan. Jason was the most shocked as he lives out of state and had not seen Megan in person for years and had just seen the mask slip in a major way. He was nearly in tears for some of the drive and was going to have a talk with Megan in the morning, give her away in the ceremony and then take off for home.

When we finally got to the cabin at the venue to finally turn, everyone had settled down for the night and I spend a good an hour on my phone with my husband decompressing and unloading. He couldn't believe the level it all sunk to either but at the same time he wasn't surprised with Megan. Trust me it was a wrench to not pack up my shit and just go home but again that would have left everything on Angie and now on Jason as well.

Continued in part 2, as there's 40000 character limit.