ARTIFICIAL

M E M O R Y L A N E

Ravina

There's nothing worse than doubting yourself. Destroying yourself from the inside out while everyone on the outside is doing the same. But how can you find light when all you're surrounded with is darkness? Yeah, that's how I feel now as I relive a memory that I needed not to think about. No matter how much shopping I do and how much I blow my fiancé's money I can't stop thinking about it. Heck, I'm embarrassed to speak of it.

This morning, just two days after my great first breakfast with my fiancé, he didn't seem too keen on to me speaking this time. Just like he wasn't yesterday, no matter, I'm not setting any expectations just because he probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed that day. I'm saying it's the wrong side because clearly the right side of the bed for him is when he's acting like a big bad ole meany with the many orders like he's the president. This place may as well be the White House.

All he told me was I need to prepare two dresses for two occasions in this week. One for our engagement party this Friday night and another, a dinner with his parents. Which means I have to be very presentable, but that's not what he said. His words were, "I don't believe you need a stylist. I don't want anything to change." He said.

Yes, he might've meant I'm the good wife but in my ear, all that's ringing is the fact that he likes my style as it is. And that's a huge compliment in a girl's life. Specifically that girl would be me.

Which is why for my engagement party I chose a white sleek and silky sheer midnight gown as the party is set to be in a ball like venue that he owns, he said it's for important events such as this. I say he just wants to be in his element, men like Nathaniel are never comfortable in another man's territory, not out of fear for himself. He just wants a moment to say "you're in my world" type of thing. Because we all know Nathaniel is the man he thinks he is, even when he's in another man's spotlight. He doesn't just take that spotlight, he is the light.

I hate that my stomach gets so hot and starts to move when I think about him. I hate that I even tested out saying his name a couple of times that I realized his name is too cute for him yet it suits him. Technically, it suits his perfect face.

Nathaniel, Nathaniel. Nathan. Nate. Niel? No, definitely not.

Now going back to my dress, my dress is something that I believe would go well with a man like him. The white for the theme and the event. But an X crossed bare back and saggy front with spaghetti straps with silk material. Besides, I think it's the right dress for me. To top it off, it stops a few inches above my knees. I'll admit I do like short dresses but I hope my fiancé doesn't hate this one. I know Angus would. I have white heels match it though. They are not too tall but not too short either. They are easy to walk with while giving me a good height.

For the parents evening I picked out a beige corset princess themed dress that reaches right below my knees. Shorter heels but still give me a bit of height. I don't think it's any different from my normal height. Since they want it to be a country club lunch, I ensured to get a little sun hat and gloves so I can provide the right etiquette.

I will look like the world is at my feet and at my command when I'm the one at the world's dirty feet and it my master. My heart became randomly sore when I watched the whole process of the braider lady doing my hair on the last six or eight boxes till I'm done and ready to leave. I can't say I don't miss my Afro already but I love braids more than I love wigs, I guess they are better for me to handle because I'd actually need someone to help me with installing my wigs. I have many but I hardly use them.

I noticed weird behavior with my fiancé lately but I'll just assume that's him. For example he doesn't want me to be forgetting my glasses, he seems to make it a point to have them on as if the sight just satisfies him all over. He's acting like he'd actually pay to see me in glasses. I hope it's not a fetish.