"Life is about give and take; you know this better than anyone; the deal is clear, either you take an in, or war it shall be.
"It's indeed give and take, so why do I feel like the only one who gives without receiving anything in return?"
"Because th...
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Beautiful.
Everything was beautiful.
The sky was serene, welcoming a new season with crashing torrents and different emotions. The air was warm like the caress of a gentle lover, a romantic Romeo whose touch would revive a dead Juliette.
The perfect weather for the perfect day. Absolutely fitting, absolutely breathtaking.
It was beautiful. Everything was mesmerizing, from the floral arrangements, which were chosen with a unique style kept in mind, to the tablecloths, which were restricted to follow a minimalist fashion, opting for a calm white that harmonized with the greenery of nature that surrounded the room.
It was idyllic and, in its simplicity, fancy.
Conniving and deceptive, conveying a completely different story from the reality that was hidden behind the fascinating facade - just like your life.
Of course! It would have been out of character if your big day had looked different; it would have lacked something if it had been less extravagant or lacked the touch of perfectionism that would become the talk of the town for years to come. Your big day resembled your marriage; it was so extremely perfect that it seemed fake. Plastic.
Just like the union of the spouses.
You had your mother to thank for taking care of little details and yourself to thank for being in that position. How different would it have been if you had stayed in your little bubble and accepted the misery without being greedy? Well, it would have been so different that you would not have had to marry a man whose confession of love came in the form of threats, nor would you have had to protect the man you actually love by giving in to his threats.
Again...
You let out a sigh of exasperation as the playful breeze stroked the hems of your nightgown. It's been hours since your makeup artist finished modifying your face, your hair was still held in place by curlers to maintain the hairstyle your stylist decided on, and it's been hours since you stood on your porch and pondered life and destiny again.
You've watched the preparations taking place in the backyard of your home with seeming interest. The wedding planners and their assistants ran from one place to another like ants in midsummer, trying their best not to miss any detail for fear of your mother's wrath and the shame that would stain their name if rumors of miserable work made the rounds. Yes, you were watching, but even if it looked like you were watching with interest, in reality, you were watching as if from an outside perspective, as if your soul went out of your body to witness how fate ridiculed you.
When your name was called one more time, you held your wrist in front of your face to check your watch. Your mother was growing impatient, and you knew it would only be a matter of time before she stormed into your room. It was time to get ready and head to church. The garden would be ready to welcome the married couple as soon as the vows were spoken before the priest, who would put a new label on their lives.
