Dear Rosaline

8

As it went on, she stayed silent in her seat whilst holding the hem of her shirt as if her life depended on it.

It hurts. It hurts so freaking bad.

It hurts so bad seeing them smiling, holding each other's hands. Why can't you see it? Why can't you see that I loved you first? She wanted to ask. She wanted to run but she just couldn't.

The sight of them together, exchanging vows and living a happy married life brought the familiar sting on her chest again. It was more painful compared to the time when she found out that he replaced her. She badly wanted to walk out and then what? It doesn't matter anyhow.

Nothing's going to change.

He'd still be married.

As the ceremony went on, she watched the sunlight hit through the glass windows of the church. The colors it was emitting shone brightly on the floor like tiny specks of gems. The lovely sight before her reminded her of the love they had before. Beautiful. Magical.

She caressed her wrist and felt tears stinging her eyes.

"Should anyone here present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace." The priest's voice bellowed through her own reverie, snapping her away from her thoughts. The crowd was silent but her mind was a twirl of disarray and chaos. It occurred so fast, the memories of him and her together came dashing within her consciousness like an old-fashioned black and white movie.

A collective gasp crammed the church and the priest stopped midway. She felt a gentle touch on her arm and looked down on the man beside her—

Why is she looking down at him?

"Excuse me, dear. You oppose to the marriage of this couple?"

It took her several seconds to recognize that the priest's question was intended for her. Aghast and horrified looks were evident on everyone's faces.

"Miss—"

She turned her attention to the priest, "Julia."

The priest smiled, "Miss Julia, and you're the—"

"A friend of the groom, father."

He nodded, "I see; and you object to their union?"

She looked over to the two. Both of them had puzzled looks on their faces and appeared to be wondering about what on earth she was attempting to do. Surprised yes, but none of them seemed angry. She stared at them, stumbling upon the realization of how perfect they looked together, how amazing their lives could be when they have a home and kids, and when they grow old together.

"Julia?" She blinked at the sound of the bride's soft voice.

"I'm. .I'm not objecting." She immediately said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "I. .I just want to say something to the couple." The crowd seemed to let out a breath of relief upon hearing this.

The priest nodded, and gestured for her to continue. She felt her heart thump faster and faster as she fumbled for the proper words to say.

"I. .I hope you cherish what you guys have there," she told them while pointing to their chests where their hearts are, her hands slightly shaking in the process. She then continued, "'Cause you know, not everyone is fortunate enough to find such true love. . .and you two are perfect for each other." A tear escaped from her eyes and rolled down one by one.

She turned to the bride, looked at her growing belly and said, "Thank you so much for making him happy and I know that you still would so please. .take care of him." She shifted her gaze to the groom and upon seeing the look of puzzlement on his face, more tears fell down. "Please be good. .take care of her. Love her. ." more than you did to me, she wanted to add but instead, "Love her with all your heart and treat her like a queen. ."

"Your queen," she added and chuckled. Everyone laughed with her except for him who was staring at her intensely.

She then took a step back and slowly walked backwards. More and more tears were streaming down her face but she didn't bother wiping them. She just let them gush, and promised to herself that this shall be the last time she'll cry because of him.

"Congratulations." She said one last time..

..and ran away.

Dear Rosaline,

No, I think not. It's never to become.

For I am not the one.