Tag Archives: wedding day

Sweet Sixteen

Prose prompt from Yeah Writers!

 

When I was sixteen, I fell madly in love. At first I thought it was only one of the many relationships I had and am having. I knew well how to play around, have fun and enjoy the moment while it lasts.

The first time I saw Jason was in a pub – sitting in one corner while I cheerfully sang and danced at the centre. The entire night, I acted like I didn’t notice him staring. I hit my bed forgetting about him.

The second time I saw him was during our first date. His torn jeans-white-shirt get up unexpectedly looked good on him. His clean-cut hair even made him look, ah, what’s the word? Charming. After dinner, I was surprised he bought apple pie for my folks before taking me home. As I watched him walk to his car, I realised two alarming things : he’s different and I like it.

That’s when I started hanging out with Jason more. Didn’t know what kind of songs he let me listen to but I gave up the noisy club music. I wasn’t sure if I was too clingy but I always wanted to be near him. I was used to guys chasing me around but one text and I’ll come running to him in seconds. Late night phone conversations became a routine. Love letters quickly turned to be the “it” thing.

A young love blossomed around us. Soon, we found ourselves naming our unborn children and designing our dream house. I loved the idea of marriage and of wedding anniversaries. You’d be surprised, how at 16, I came up with an entire 20 year plan of our life together.

The last time I saw Jason was on his wedding day. I hugged him tight after he brushed my hair.

Never thought I was sexy enough to find a bride eh?” he said jokingly.
Who would not want a handsome man like you?” I tapped his shoulder.
For starters, that would be you,” he answered.
Only because you didn’t ask, silly!”

We were still laughing after we said our goodbyes. And that was it.

I watched Jason dance with his lovely wife and memories of when I was sixteen suddenly filled my mind. I remembered how we were crazy about each other. How I thought he was the one, my soul mate, my other half.

A soft warm hand found its way to mine and snapped me back to reality.

Jealous?” It was Matt.
Not in a million years.”

Matt looked at me like no man has ever gazed into my dark hazel eyes. He embraced me and kissed my cheeks gently. I pulled closer to kiss him, passionately this time. And when I opened my eyes I saw Jason looking towards our direction, smiling. I smiled back and showed him the gem on my ring finger.

When I was sixteen, I was madly in love. I was crazy and fearless. But I was also young and foolish. Jason and I both were. We said things, we did things because we didn’t know any better. Sixteen is an age of exploration, adventures and misadventures. It’s exciting and provoking and intriguing at the same time. But one thing is for sure – at sixteen, everything and everyone don’t stay the same.

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I Only Get the Bouquet

A magnetic force draws the bouquet of red and white roses as it land between my palms. Pastel gowns stitched to screaming ladies encircle me. I force a weak smile.

Looking over my shoulder I catch a sight of the happy couple with the woman sitting comfortably next to a man in the middle of the room. They look like royalties straight from your favourite fairy tale. She is wearing the most beautiful white dress I have ever seen in my life. The man, on the other hand, undoubtedly looks handsome in his cream tuxedo. I always thought neutral colours look good on him.

He looks at the woman so mesmerized. He wraps his arms around her;He smiles at her so sweetly; He holds her closer when she tries to let go. Soon, they are holding hands, glaring at each other’s eyes, humming to each other’s ears.

Warm water starts to form under my eyes, my vision becoming hazy. I begin to sense a big lump at the back of my throat. There is growing tension on my fingers while I continue to stare. My heart is beating faster and it gets harder to breathe. The thorns squeeze to my skin, piercing through every vein. But my fingers grip it tighter, refusing to let go of the pain.

All of a sudden, my legs slowly step backwards. It starts with a few hesitant movement, then it caught a pace…striding away from the crowd, running…fast.

I demand for my legs to quit fooling around and turn back before I do something even more embarrassing. I want to stop! But my limbs and muscles are not cooperating as they continue to humiliate me. My eyes are not listening either – leaving tracks of tears along the pathway.

This celebration is a stab on the back. It is a culmination of the things we were supposed to be, planned to be and meant to be.

A ceremony with flowers, white veils, rings and vows is supposed to be magical. But not this time. Not for me.

I can’t get the scene out of my head.

He looks at the woman so mesmerized. He used to glare at me the same. He wraps his arms around her. He protected me under the same might. He smiles at her so sweetly. He used to kiss me tenderly. He holds her closer when she tries to let go. His biggest fear used to be losing me.

‘What makes her so much better than me? What makes her just everything that I can never be? What makes her his every dream and fantasy? Because I can remember when it was me.’