Slipping through my fingers

It's quite possibly just some melodramatic responses to a tough situation. If he chooses me and they leave, it'll always be my fault. Whatever his protestations, his declarations that he's not being held to ransom, underneath it all, it will be my fault. If they stay and he chooses them, well, that'll be a fine life for us all. I'm trying to resign myself to this new life being for three and not the six we'd been planning. That way, when I'm disappointed it'll just be a minor blip instead of my guts being ripped out. And if I'M, wrong, well it'll be a nice surprise and I won't end up with my entrails on display for all to see. Who said the course of love never runs smooth? They should be slapped for understatement. This almost constant feeling of nausea is, at least, helping me lose weight for the wedding that may never go ahead. Lucky me.