Wedding

Not mine, Funzo’s. Remember Funzo? He was the ex before Boyfriend. My first blogging was pretty much entirely about the gradual deterioration of Funzo and I, and the gradual escalation of Boyfriend (then referred to as ‘The Boy’). But don’t read my early entries, they’re fucking terrible. You know, as opposed to the spun gold of now, ahem.

So anyway, Funzo and I were always wrong for each other. The sex was amazing, but we fought every day. We were opposites. We HATED each other. And I milked my snake on him.

You know when an animal handler makes a snake bite down on a jar, to milk it of its poison? And you know when you’re a crazy fucking girl, and you get into your first relationship, and you have to do all that crazy fucking shit to test the boundaries? That’s milking the snake. If Boyfriend and I had hooked up back in 2000, when I desperately wanted to, we would have lasted about 3 weeks. Because I was still so poisonous.

But this is about Funzo. So yes, we were opposites. We were melodramatic. We were drunk on the thrill of our first requited love.

I cheated on him with two different people. But in all fairness, I didn’t yet know I was built that way. One was in our first few months, with Ex 2, which kind of wasn’t my fault entirely since he had a way of completely and utterly manipulating me. We had sex twice. Only once was really with my consent, but yeah. And then, at the beginning of the end (it took Funzo and me about a year of deterioration to finally break up) I kissed Boyfriend. Only once, not that I didn’t want more. Boyfriend was all moral and shit.

So yesterday, Funzo got married. The ceremony was lovely, his bride is brilliant and utterly suited to him. It’s hilarious; she is the opposite of me as if she was created from scratch with the brief of NOT DESCI IN ANY WAY. She’s one of those pleasant glasses girls, you know that genre? They discuss The Big Issues together. I have no interest in The Big Issues. I want pleasure and sin and laughing and happiness.

Going to the wedding was also useful, since we could tick off some more ‘we are not doing THAT’ stuff at our wedding. Weddings are a bit fucked. I have to start organising mine. It’s in June. Urg.