I had just received the invitation.
I opened it with anticipation.
My sister was getting married to Connor,
and I was to be the maid of honor.
That’s when my mom walked into the room.
She stopped me before I could resume.
“What’s that for?”
she asked, like she knew hers was in store.
“It’s none of your concern,”
I say in turn.
“It isn’t like you’d show up anyway.”
I look up and say.
“What’s that mean?”
For her, nothing goes unseen.
The only exception, it’d seem,
would be a moment for my sister’s dream.
“When have you ever shown up?
You were only ever there for the blowup.
Just so you could inform her
that wherever she was, problems occur.”
“I was there when she forgot her stuff,
and I was there when the times were tough.”
“I was there for her first breakup,
while you had already given up.”
“You don’t deserve
to come and observe
her happiest day—
in any way.
“Keep your distance;
we no longer need your assistance.
We grew up without it,
so I won’t allow it—
to hurt her anymore.
Therefore, I’ll see it to the door.”
