WB Gets Married: The Telling of the News

23 Sep
"The Scream," by Edward Munch, c. 1893

"The Scream," by Edvard Munch, c. 1893

WB called me once in July to see how my mother was doing, since I’d talked to him weeks before and told him that she was ill.  He called me once in August to tell me that his friend Vinnie in DC needed my professional help with something in NY.  He called me in September and told me that he had some big news.  He did not want to tell me the news though, he said,  because any time he received the kind of call that he was making to me, he found it very upsetting. 

Immediately I knew what his news was.  But I dummied up and what I said to him was, “So you’re going to tell me something upsetting?”

“Well, I mean there’s the rah, rah response, but besides that it can be upsetting.”

I was absolutely sure of what his news was at this point, but I pushed this knowledge aside. 

“Why don’t you just say it?  If it was my news wouldn’t you expect me to just tell you?”

“No.  You could email me,” he responded.

“Just tell me,” I begged.

“No, I’m not going to say any more than what I’ve said.”

“Well, I look forward to learning more in the days to come.  I mean that.  I want to be one of the people who gets to learn more.”

When the call ended, so did my denial of WB’s impending nuptials.  I went to bed and fought tears.  And lost the fight.  Why doesn’t anyone want to marry me?  Am I never going to get married?  How could he love someone else?  How could he love her more than he loves me?  How could HE, of all people, be getting married?  Before me, no less?  Why do I have to learn of this now, on top of all the other stuff that my heart has had to endure these last few weeks? 

I slept.

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