The Day I Committed Myself

The day I would start another chapter of my life...

The day I should independently share my body and soul...

The day I would stand in front of the altar...

The day I should feel joy...

The day I would cry...

The day I should be looking forward to...

-

Walls painted in peach-maroon. Sun rose, and the light rushed in blinding up the view of the ocean from the balcony. Windows closed with white curtains on each corner. Every second seemed heaven; too much flashes were at my sight. Praises were all I heard. Smiles and tears were all I saw. Warm hands and hugs were what I felt. Few people - I couldn't count how many exactly - surrounded me. I assumed they were make-up artists, dress coordinators, wedding coordinators... And of course, my parents who were extremely excited for that day.

To a bedroom painted white filled minimalist furniture, my parents led me there. I heard the doors close. Slowly, the noise faded. Finally, a time for peace. A time to breathe.

My mother walked towards, and opened the wooden closet visible right in front of you as you enter the room.

Long... White... Simple yet gorgeous... Crystals and laces. Veil...

That was it. The day I would commit myself-

"Darling, hurry up. You wouldn't want to be late, right?" My dad flashed me a smile. He was wearing a black tuxedo, white long sleeves underneath, and black bow-tie and newly-cleaned shoes. His wrinkles showed, as he showed his teeth. He looked so pleasant.

I just simply nodded. Not a single movement of my mouth showed.

My mom came closer, as she carried with her the - I mean - my wedding dress. She kissed me on my left cheek; I closed my eyes, and I felt her thumb caressing my cheek.

I opened my eyes and saw my dad walking towards the door. His image slowly getting far. Distance between us getting bigger. He exited the room. He shut the doors close. Well... I was about to get dressed, that's why.

Everyone was ready. Everything was planned. I closed my eyes again for a few seconds, as Mom helped me dress up. Makeup artists rushed in. I sat in front of an white wood oblong mirror placed vertically. It was put on a light brown wooden desk. I saw my parents' reflection from the mirror. They were at the back, at my left side. They watched me get ready.

There were different makeup kits, different brands, sizes, and colors... I watched myself from the mirror. Sweet smiles were all that I could see. I saw myself getting prettier than ever. I looked beautiful with my hair bun with few hair strands purposely left at my cheeks, near my ears, curled up. My pale-white skin blended with the light pink make-up mixed with sky blue glimmering due to its sort-of glitters.  As I was letting them do the finishing touches, a shoe box was handed to me. I opened it, and I saw a pair of silver, on its three to four inches, high heels. My parents wiped their own tears with their handkerchief.

The door swung open. I went out of the car. The sunlight hit my skin. What a sunny afternoon! 

I stood in front of the door of the Church, waiting for it to open. And, just a few seconds later, everything went on slow motion.

The door swung open, giving light on the aisle I would be walking through. Pews started to show up. Guests looking my way... teary-eyed... Smiling... Crying...

I looked at him, then a heavy feeling started to build up uncontrollably. It was as if I was glued to the ground. I tried to cope it up, but no, I was not able to do so. My eyes were getting blurry as tears were slowly coming out. I slowly walked through the aisle.

Cameras flashing again. My eyes still glued. Tears started to fall even more. I was crying. 

I started to cry. I looked down as I wiped my tears delicately to not ruin the makeup, then I gazed straight at them again. There were mouthing "Congratulations", and things I couldn't understand. 

"This is it, the moment that will change my life" I thought.

Then, there he was standing beside my parents. He looked overjoyed and emotional. I couldn't keep the emotions that continued to grow inside of me. 

As I walked nearer, the more it felt emotional. I cried even more. I was trembling, and I squeezed the bouquet of white roses I was carrying.

I looked at him, he was crying hard. His face was so red and eyes were swollen.

That face, that look, made my heart melt even more. I couldn't stand up and walk straight anymore, but there I was already, near my soon-to-be-husband who offered his hand to me.

I reached over it. My parents came near me, hugged me, kissed me, smiled, cried...

They felt joy... 

That was painful. 

My parents wiped my tears who kept on falling. I wouldn't be surprised if my makeup was messed up, but no, I did not bother worrying about it

They hugged me tight and rubbed their hands at my back.

How happy it could have been if it was because they wouldn't want me to go... if they do not want to let go of me.

I looked again at him.

He tried to flash a smile and join the crowd's applause.

He gestured me to move in front of the priest. 

The ceremony and the Holy Mass started.

The unica hija and youngest of the family would be married from that time and onward; and that would be changing my whole life. I was distracted thinking that I am getting married! It's like feeling all eyes on me, and then get uncomfortable of the feeling. There was no way of going back. There was no point to back off.

As thoughts flew by...

"...do you take her as your wife?" I felt his eyes look at me then looked at the priest saying proudly, "I do, Father." This was it. This was it. I said to myself.

"...do you take him as your husband?" I took a deep breathe. Tears building up again. I looked back to the crowd, guests, relatives, friends, and families, then at him. After a long deep breathe, I looked at the priest, and said crying, "I do... I do, Father".

The Church was filled of happiness and joy, while I was in vain.

I married the man I didn't love. A planned marriage. A fixed marriage. A marriage that was for their own company. The one I truly love, was there, sitting on the pews. The man I dream, wish, plan, and want to be with through my whole life was there, standing, clapping his own hands, crying, as everyone celebrated for me, for us as newly-weds. That was the day I committed myself not to the man I really loved, not to the man I want to get married with. Everyone was thinking I was too emotional because I was marrying that man who stood beside me. They did not know I was in pain because I wouldn't be marrying the man I love.