The clock ticked six as I stare at it while Bee rests on my lap. I already whipped myself a sandwich and stuffed it with whatever was left in the cooler. But now looking at it as it sits on the coffee table, abandoned looking depressing with how dry it has become, unlike the passion it went through while it was being put together. And that is exactly how I felt. Like a torrent of mood swings crashing through me. One minute I am dusting and scrapping surfaces I never knew existed in the house and the next I am huddled on the coach biting and snipping what was remaining of my nails off, as if my mind went on a freak cycle. Feeling defeated, my thoughts took the better of me, which lead me to this very existing moment.
What my eyes are now soaking off the screen did pique my interest more that I could manage to acknowledge or count. I knew it wasn't just big, nor extravagant, I knew and the whole worlds knows that it is more than that. Sitting on my coach, with multiple tabs open on Bee's browser before my me. All featuring all about the same thing, Balan weddings.
It is like looking at some royals.
The pictures and articles with catchy headlines and gossip feeds all conclude the Balan weddings into big and proud words. People are in awe of how they, with no doubt, manage flourish their wealth as well as embolden their beliefs and concerns when it comes to proper traditional wedding ceremonies. It's part of their heritage. Yes, the union might not be based on love, but starting the secrecy of marriage before god, each other and people in the most heavenly and idyllic is what they believe is an omen to enriches to a prospers and love enriched matrimonial.
Exquisite, classy, peerless, rich traditional sentimental unions that hardly let go of anyone without a full heart and teary eyes, magnificent essence and most said weddings that could never be done twice; matchless, the Balan's way of celebration. Weddings that put every other wedding to shame.It all sparkled before my eyes, lavish venues, extravagant designs and entertainments. It all makes you jealous if you missed out on it at your own wedding or dreamful and wishing that yours will one day live up to a quarter of THAT.
I cannot believe that all of what I am seeing is related to me, to my family, to my name. I share their last name, but never shared any of those moments with them. I could barely pinpoint whom is who as I scan the photos. But nonetheless, it all made me somehow giddy, and rather excited that I grabbed the stale studded bed and munched it down like a starved animal while my mind is now on a wild ride, imagining what would my wedding then be like.
I bet it would be as extravagant as the others. I would do nothing but make sure to be present there for the fairytale of a day to come true. I would probably see everyone, my grandfather, uncles and aunts, even my cousins. It would be a new shift to my life and I can't believe that ass of that is to happen tomorrow.
The cellphone starts blaring right next to where the now empty plate with a few crumbs resting on it. I snatch the phone, carful of Bee on my lap and slid my finger the slightly cracked old screen. And due to the unfortunate crack, that happens to be right on the top of the screen, I usually miss who is dialing. So, without trying to squint my eyes at it and risk missing the call, I answer right away. "Miss Balan. My sincere greetings, I hope you are well." The thick calculated voice gave him away. "I am well, thank you. I was wondering when I would finally hear from you Mr. Closos. Is everything alright?" it did take him more than I have anticipated for him to call. That fact made me walk on my tip toes those past days and probably would have cause me white hair now if I look closely.
Work did more than enough to distract my mind, and the merry sprits around the city filled me with much needed calmness and peace. And when the thought that I would be married around my favorite time of the year did click, something in me hoped that it would swell what Christmas and new year's meant to me. Hope, new beginnings, love and family.
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YOU ARE READING
It Leads to Your Heart. [NOT EDITED]
RomanceDior Balan, the Romanian heiress of gold, is me. That was the name that my mother has given me in hopes of being the new ray of light to her miserable marriage. But she was unaware that not all that you wish for comes true. And now I am walking on...