Christinellia

Prologue

Prologue

(Gary)

I once heard from a beloved princess as she said this to his son that if you do marry, you marry your best friend.  What if your best friend isn’t sure you’re the right one?

There I was, my hands sprouting out the filth and mush dirt, the pores of my skin sweating rapidly, my body under my grave on a quiet cemetery. My breathing worsened as I gasped for the scarce air that surrounded my face. My body numbed by a recent beating yet the pain continued to travel through every nerve situated on my skin.  The scary feeling of being buried alive crept as the wet dirt blanketed the rest of my body, cradling my torsos to a specific form. It was a horrible memory but knowing the reason of why fate brought me to experience this ghastly scenario, I regret nothing though it was as if I chose these things to happen to me. I would love to re-experience the same events, risking my life, choking at the dirty mud, and feeling both physical and emotional pain, if it meant that she’d come, pull my hand from the ground, and save me before the arrival of my last breath. That happened when I was seventeen.

Now, I'm twenty nine and I'm trapped. The woman I adore looks at me as nothing more than a friend. I don't doubt what I feel but to love, it is a game played by two's and I lack one important participant. The more I confess, the more I feel rejected. But I will continue to wait.          

It's like one of those stories. When we were ten, we were inseparable. But then, the awkward phases of puberty struck and we found ourselves diverging towards different cliques. She became the school's prettiest girl with a huge attitude problem. I became a critical realist with great prejudices against everything she does. The friendship withered into bitterness and animosity without acknowledging the deeper feelings within.  Fortunately, fate has something more stored for us. During my almost entombment, she found her way back to me and exhumed me from the brink of death. This event restored our friendship but sadly, this sealed the fate of her dream -to be a famous Hollywood actress.

At present, I was lucky enough to have her work for me. With my constant expression of undying love, her enigmatic smiles presents hidden captivation shedding me with a little light of hope. But just before a big revelation, she got involved in a car accident. I don't know why or how but when she woke up, she calls herself Cornelia. These are what I know about her.            

·        She’s not the optimistic and kind Christine that I grew to know. She’s manipulative, vain, egocentric, and flirtatious as is when she was in high school;

·        She’s an award winning actress engaged to her high school boyfriend, James Hamilton; and I don’t exist. I died on the day she supposedly saved me. Knowing this makes me feel inadequate.  She holds the body of the woman I love while losing all the connections we made over the decade.

I could barely make the woman of my dreams take this giant step towards a new kind of relationship.  How much more would I be able to convince a woman who doesn’t care about my existence to take it with me? All I can sum up is that this is her way of coping up with her missed opportunity.  But I won’t give up this easily.

I will dance.  I will dance this game of love until she accepts her steps.  Since the moment she pulled me out of that dirt, I knew that she’s the only one for me and the only reason why I survived.  She’s the reason why I continue to live for another day.  And if this ever will not hold true, I guess it would have been better if she has left me for dead.