Marriage, wedding. Walking down the aisle, feeling every step. Every step takes you closer to the new chapter of your life. You can see the future that is seeking ahead. You can feel every moment, the amazing moment of your life. It is every girls dream. Get married in a church. Wear marvelous wedding dress. Get to be in the middle of attention. The feast. And beyond all: you will spend rest of your life with the man you love. You have him for the rest of your lives.
Sounds amazing, doesn't it?
That was what all I wanted. All what I had been looking for. Since nine years old I have been waiting for my wedding day. I've wanted to find my dream, my prince. Soul mate, the one who would share my dreams and the one with who I would share my life. He, who were always in my dreams a mysterious, faceless man, who I never got. I dreamt having that kind of love that I would be just blinded by his feelings. I waited; I have waited, all my life.
But there just didn't come the right one. I had met many, I had friends. Just never I felt right, that I would share my life with. Of course it took time, but it never actually worked with anyone. I knew it for sure, that once I would meet the man, I would know it. I would feel it, that he was the one that I've been waiting for. I knew it. It had to be.
My searching's didn't please my parents. I had travelled the world but suddenly my parents stopped it. They said education was far more important than travelling around the world, trying to find the man of your dreams. It was only the other reason why I wanted to travel. I wanted to see the world, but it would be when I was married. I wanted to share the world with the man I loved. The reason why I travelled was because I loved to see the history.
I studied history in the university. My parents were delighted. I was happy. Until the day, the day my parents informed me I was going to be married.
First I thought it was my best friend. I had known him for many years. Unfortunately I did not feel any romantic feelings for him. I was sort of pleased, sort of in shock. There was good side, I knew him, my future fiancé, but then there was the side that he was my best friend. Of course I would get along with him, but I was scared what the future would hold. I had not sought marrying him nor having future with him. He was a friend of mine, that's all. Maybe my parents thought I shared with him more than friendship. Well, at least it was a relief to me, better than marrying a completely stranger. Let me remind you that were what I thought at first.
It had been a tradition in my family since the very beginning of our family. I did not put against: I knew it was going to come some point in my life, but not in surprise like this. The tradition had changed in some ways. I would have the choice of deciding who the man was, if I found him before my age of eighteen, then I would have him but if I didn't, I would be married in the hands of my parents, my family. It was odd in the view that usually young women studied age sixteen and then decided what to do in their life, in my family. So there was two years to find the One. Since I had spent the two years from my life to travelling and studying more history, it was practically wasted years. That's what they said.
Since I already knew who he was, I planned to have big wedding. I wanted the perfect wedding day, the incredible place, the beautiful dress and my dream man. Of course that time I still hadn't found him, when I thought what my wedding day would be like. It was strange, that the "dream man" that I had waited all my life was going to be my friend. Not something I had expected to be, but I had to accept it.
After the information I looked him differently. I looked carefully his expressions, moves, reactions and sayings. I looked at him in a whole different way that I hadn't ever before: in a romantic way, that I would be his wife. And since in your religion was not right to divorce, I had to get along with him. I even think I may have fallen for him. I hadn't looked at him in that way, only in friendly eyes. I noticed how he looked, stared at me. I knew I would, in time, fall for him, even love him, and that was why I wasn't afraid of the wedding day.
He got nervous when the day got nearer. I didn't see him so often, not in university, not at home. He didn't come to visit me and when I would see him few times in the week at school, he ignored me. His nervousness showed in his face. I knew there was something troubling him, I knew him too well. He wasn't a shy person, but in this situation he was. In a week he said only a few words to me, if even that.
It made me surer he was my parents' choice, though; they acted like he was not. I did not have the value of asking who the man was, but it was obvious. They talked, rarely, of this person who I would marry, but only when I wasn't around and how I know this because I overheard them. They didn't say his name, but I knew it already.
My friends were, visibly, jealous of me. I mean, I had got the man I knew, a friend, when they would be married to stranger. Honestly I felt sorry for them. Not that I had many friends, but still. I felt honored.
When the Day came, I felt somehow nervous. Maybe because my parents had ignored my gaze last night and shared a doubtful look when I asked about my friend. I wanted to get over it, some way. I had picked an amazingly beautiful dress. I knew he would love it.
My mother gave me her necklace. It was something old. New was my dress. Something blue was my underwear. My hair was in a wonderful haircut. Half of my hair was free, resting on my shoulders.
Now was the moment of truth. I felt my father's hand in mine, how he walked me down in the aisle. Every step was closer the, almost, dream I had waited. I looked all those happy faces smiling at me. I listened the wedding march. I felt happy, I couldn't help smiling. I smiled at the familiar faces and also the unknown that were standing the other side of the benches. I did not know anyone of his family. I didn't see his parents but they must be standing nearer. My father loosened his grip of my hand. I was getting closer him.
Then my body trembled. Something was wrong. I saw only back of the man, but I knew it didn't feel right. I took a glimpse at my father who smiled without a feeling. His face told everything. It made me scared, my heart beating faster.
There was something different. I didn't know his hair was so dark. I didn't know he was so tall. Or maybe it was because it just felt that he was taller, because he was standing on a platform. The wedding song stopped. My heart stopped beating. I didn't feel my father's hand anymore. The man turned around.
I didn't recognize the man.