I wasn't nervous about giving my toast until the best man demanded that he go first. Then I was left to wait to say what I needed to say.
So thanks for all of the advice, everyone. It worked.
I had more fun at that wedding than I have at just about anything in a while. I'm so happy for my friend. She looked beautiful and she was glowing. What a day!
I had something heavy weighing on the corner of my consciousness, but it didn't affect me nearly as much as I thought it might. It helped to be at my best friend's wedding to put that into perspective. I have to continue to tell myself that some powerful relationships and friendships are built to last, and that others are much more transitory. Neither is better or worse than the other, they're just different.
The only awkward moment during the weekend came when one of the married groomsmen said, "Being single is a selfish, selfish life." He didn't know that I wasn't married, nor that my life is far from simple on that subject. He continued to say, "I'm tired of men in their thirties who just don't move on to the next phase of life and get married." He also said: "And sometimes, women are too picky."
(I felt really uncomfortable for the duration of a limousine ride, especially when I heard the phrase "the next phase (or was it part?) of life." I'd just encountered that line earlier that week. )
I thought of some words that I wanted to say, not to him, the groomsman, about that very subject, but to someone else:
"You're at fault for what you claim fault for, and I'm at fault for not sticking to my guns during October of two years ago. My head knew what was going to transpire at that time; I should have just let it go then, but my damned heart was an absolute fucking idiot."
Instead, I stayed silent in both cases.
There were so many things I learned about myself this weekend, but the most valuable for me is one that's a little more shallow: wearing a pretty dress and dancing are the best medicines for just about anything.