And there it was.
Two people in costume, facing each other, making a promise of forever.
Spectators on benches.
Phone recording video, uploading to Instagram, appearing in my feed.
There it was.
I knew it was happening. I just didn't know it was so soon.
It's probably for the best. If I'd found out earlier, if I'd had more time, I probably would've tried to stop it. I would've done something. I would've done something.
But I only had a week. I had a week to collect the pieces of my broken heart. I had a week for the news to set in. I had a week to recover enough to get out of bed and go to work.
And then it happened.
The worst that could happen.
The end of all ends.
The final blow.
The thing beyond all things that should make me give up all hope.
The Worst That Could Happen