The following is but the only love story I have ever written. This was when we were made to create a love story by our Psychology teacher way back when. I don't really know why she ever made us do it but, what the hell, it was for the grade...and i still have no idea what I'd call it..
She was marvelous. She looked breathtakingly beautiful in white. I’ve never seen her with her hair so promptly held back in a tight bun as the gossamer veil that intentionally tried to hide her whole visage showed a little outline. Yep. It was like a dream; a not so pleasant dream. She was everything I’ve ever wanted. She walked pretty slowly as if she was in slow motion, as if everything just suddenly lost some momentum as she entered the holy temple of the Almighty. Crimson petals were thrown at her feet as if everyone was adoring her infinite beauty with such frivolous and feverish glee. Until she slowly pursed her lips and forced a reluctant smile that my world began to make tremors on its own. I was lovestoned*. I was about to burst but I held back knowing that people would be looking.
People were beaming at her as if they were telling her she was really beautiful and lucky for having met a man to live her life with. As much as she tried to hide it, I could see she was pretty concerned on the moment that she was going to say “I do”. It was probably one of those so-called “jitters”. At that moment I knew I had to do something to help her out in the least. That was then when I felt my face was painstakingly contorting with such effort that I could feel my cheek revolting the fact that I was trying to make something of a smile.
I could see her looking at me. She was smiling as well with such teary-eyed expression that just made me want to pull her out of the place and take her to somewhere where she can feel the restraints leaving her like that day when I finally told her about how I felt. Oh, yes..She was pretty happy that day. But today, everything was different. Nerves were running high and anxiety never seemed so larger than life. But still, I was surprised with how much restraint I was able to come up with. Then, she was closer than ever to me. She looked at me with great longing in her eyes but I could only do so much as smile back to her and lower my head. I was giving way. I was giving my way for another person to stand beside me. I was giving way to the man that made me his best man. I was giving way to my best friend who I’ve never seen so happy before. I could see how bright his future could be and how incomplete mine would become. It was like doing a good deed butfeel really bad about it. At that moment, I seemed like I was writing not a sin but a tragedy of my own.
She was looking at him as he took her hand and led her to the altar. She looked nervous and shaking and that was when I saw my friend whispering to her trying to comfort that she forced another contortion of the face muscles. I was really amazed at how much people are becomingly good at abnormal exhibitions of the facial exteriors. Something struck me. I realized that was supposed to be my whisper and I swore I felt the reins were slowly slipping, self-projection was insignificant and consideration was the least of my worries. In that moment, I knew things would never be the same again and I’m pretty sure that it will never be. I have decided.
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