CASSANDRA VALENTINE-WOODS
She dreamed of finding love. Spending the summer before college as a normal teenage girl with her best friend by her side and possibly a boyfriend. Never in her many dreams would she have predicted that she'd be married int...
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Standing before the mirror, I questioned if this was truly what I desired. Luc, whom I had encountered recently, was unbearable. He was not the right person for me; love was not in his contemplation. I yearned for someone to love and support me, and he was not that person. Besides, his arrogance, rudeness, and sheer selfishness were undeniable. He was merely an aloof, wealthy individual who dismissed love as hormonal thoughts. How could anyone believe that? Love was a beautiful thing that definitely isn't hormonal Despite my aversion, I was bound to him for life. How could my mother subject me to this?
His fame? It was far greater than I had imagined, and it had utterly consumed him. My mother had portrayed him as a decent individual, but that was far from the truth. His opinion of his fans was shockingly dismissive. "They lack any respect for others and are incredibly irritating, particularly the younger ones," he said. It's baffling how someone could express such sentiments about those who have built his career and truly look up to him.
This is the day that many girls dream about. The day you bind yourself to someone you love. It's your special day, all eyes are on you. But my special day didn't start off with me feeling special. I looked beautiful it was something I could admit, I'd be more appreciative if I didn't hate the groom so much. My thoughts were interrupted as the door opened.
"Hey Cass." My mother snuck into the room as I watched her in the mirror. "Are you ready?"
"Mom, him and I have nothing in common. I'll never be ready." I choked on my tears, refraining from sitting down so I didn't wrinkle my dress.
The pressure was immense, crashing down on me like a wave. I felt unprepared, childlike. My mother's eyes softened at my distress. Tears were not an option; my makeup was flawless, and time was a luxury we didn't have.
Without a word, she moved in for a hug. I hesitated, wary of smudging my makeup. Despite craving her embrace, I stood firm. Now was time for strength for myself and for everyone else. Weakness was not a choice. I mustered a smile, a silent reassurance to her, and to myself.
"It's time, Mom," I said, nodding gently, my eyes averted. "Where is Carlos?"
"He's standing right outside, are you sure you're alright?" Her eyes searched mine for truth.
"Yeah, I'm fine mom." I lied, my smile forced. "Don't worry about it."
I observed her as she approached the door, welcoming Carlos inside. This would be the first time he'd see me in this dress. His excitement was palpable when I invited him to stand in for my father; he could never take my dad's place, but he is a father figure to me. Carlos, having no children of his own, would experience something close to giving away a daughter to marriage.
Carlos entered my life when I was 12, a year following my parents' divorce. I never resented him on behalf of my dad; they shared a fairly good relationship, so it was never anything to stress on.
