Selfish

§ March 26th, 2009 §

There he was.

The man of my dreams stood at the alter, watching me walk down the aisle. His blonde waves, cut just above the ear, shined from the light that spilled from the churches high windows.

The small smile I wore slightly faltered when I reached the stage. I turned on my heel and took my rightful place: next to where the bride would be, I was the Maid of Honor.

I covered my face behind the perfect set of oranges and yellows in my hand to hide the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes.

Not a soul knew of my feelings for the groom, it just wasn't fair for him... Or Kay, my best friend.

I heard the change in music, followed by a chorus of sighs signaling the brides march towards her destiny. I looked up. To say she looked gorgeous would be an understatement. Her naturally curved body was molded into the fluffy white dress we had chosen together months before. Silky, raven hair tumbled in waves down her short body and framed her heart shaped face perfectly.

I turned to face him but still managing to see Kay from the corner of my eye.

The look they were sharing was one of pure love, a look that shattered my already broken heart once more.

But, I hid my pain and forced my brightest smile on my face because they were happy. Because love was selfish and it had no trouble breaking me apart. Because my friendship came before my love for him. Because his happiness came before my joy.

When the preacher dared those who opposed to speak there minds or forever hold there piece, I signed my vow to silence and closed my eyes. Too afraid that a confession would spill from my lips, I stared at my shoes.

When they sealed their fate with a kiss, I bit my lip. Too afraid I'd start to scream, I prayed.

When the cheers of celebration came from the audience, I gripped my bouquet. Too afraid that I'd run and hide, I counted the flowers.

1. 2. 3. 4. 5...

So I smiled again at the reception. And I never stopped smiling and dancing. I drank like the rest of the poor souls who downed their feelings with alcohol, because it was easier than to cry.

~ ~ ~

§ August 18th, 2001 §

Still shaking with nerves, I opened the wooden door to take in the sight of my first class: Biology. Glancing down at my too long skirt, I flattened down the wrinkles that I saw.

Unsure of what to do, I walked over to the white board, where a crowd of students had gathered. A white piece of paper lay against the wall. Twenty-seven names were written in a male teachers messy scrawl, all spaced out evenly by a seating chart.

After finding my name and seat, I scanned the list in hopes of finding a familiar name. Obviously with my luck, I found none. I sighed, readjusted my backpack and headed to my alphabetically assigned seat.

I stopped halfway down the aisle when I saw him.

He looked up and a set of green eyes seemed to pierce my soul, I could no longer breath. The tiny smile found on his pink lips set my heart in a craze and I found myself smiling goofily back at him.

Noticing that I had stared for a moment too long, I struggled to act normal. Well, what was normal for me. As I turned around to take my seat, I tripped over a book lying on the ground. I fell, right on top of my desk, giving him a spectacular view of my backside.

I gave myself a mental high five for choosing the longer skirt.

I could hear his quiet laughter from behind me as I sat down. Even though his laughter died down, the red tint in my cheeks only managed to get darker when the bell rang and class began.

All during roll call, I strained my ears to learn the name of the boy who had so quickly stolen my heart.

"Hayden. Porter, Hayden?"

~ ~ ~

§ August 10th, 2016 §

The moment the annoying dinging went off, I jumped from my soft leather seat and rushed to the kitchen. The cute little yellow duck timer I had bought at a garage sale last summer was shaking and pointing at the zero. After turning it off I opened the oven to reveal my master piece.

Chocolate chip cookies. Yum.

I set the tray on the stove and looked around the kitchen for a suitable plate. Opening the right cabinet I selected a plastic plate covered in cherries that used to belong to my mother.

The kitchen was nearby the living room so I could hear the squeals of the two six year olds playing around and giggling with each other and the soft laughter of Kay and Hayden. "Carter, the kids are asking for milk! Would you like another hand in there?" Kay called out.

"No thank you, I've got it covered in here," I shouted back in response. Before heading to the fridge I looked over my new kitchen. The walls were bright red, my favorite color, and black trim covered the corners. Yellow patterned curtains covered the large window facing out towards the front yard. The window came in handy when Dylan played outside. The warm aroma of cookies added to the overwhelming homey feeling I got standing here. I loved it.

With two glasses of milk in my hands and the plate balancing on my arms, I struggled to keep everything from landing on the floor. Hayden saw my distressed look and smirked, probably recalling my many years of clumsiness. I shot him a pointed look, and being the respectful adult that I am, stuck my tongue out at him.

His shoulders shook as he laughed and the all too familiar warm feeling in my stomach returned.

"So how are you enjoying the new place?" Hayden's question was directed at Dylan, my son. Dylan was too wrapped up in Sophia to notice he was asked a question.

"Dylan?" I asked, instantly getting his attention. His big green eyes looked up in confusion. "Uncle Hayden asked you a question," giving him the answer to the many questions obviously running through his head.

"Yes?" He looked over and gave Hayden his most polite smile.

"So are you enjoying your new home Dylan?" Hayden repeats.

Dylan's eyes go wide with his excitement. "This place is awesome!" He exclaims throwing his fists in the air. "Mom says the school I'll be going to next week is good. But I miss my old school, but if she says it's good then I bet I'll like it. Have you seen that awesome Lego store down the road? My mom took me there last week and they had these really really big statues made all out of Legos." He grins triumphantly and looks towards me. "Oh and my mom said that I could paint my room any color I wanted. So I told her green but I also like orange! Which one should I choose?"

Kay grinned at me, her expression proud and supportive after everything I went through the past two years. "Orange is my favorite color, go with that," Kay mentions, obviously feeding off Dylan's enthusiasm. His babbling could cure anyone of a cold heart.

Dylan nodded his head several times before saying, "Yeah orange sounds really cool! Mom can I paint my room orange?" His lip formed a pout and gave me his best puppy dog eyes.

I laughed and nodded my head in agreement, unable to and with no reason to say no.

As I carried on the conversation with Kay and Hayden, I watched Dylan every so often. He begged for Sophia's attention every single minute. His desperate attempts only lead to her further ignoring him and teasing him with her toys.

My heart ached and I realized I was Dylan. I had always chased after the person who would never give me their attention. My son was so helplessly in love with the daughter of the man I loved. I guess I passed my unfortunate luck on to him. Still, I cheered his affections on in my head.

I smiled when she reluctantly gave him a hug as they left.