The Pretty Blindfold ✔

Changes can be nerve wracking

Past. Present. Future.

We have done things in the past.

We do things in the present.

We will do things in the future.

Interestingly, our present may not approve of the things we did in the past and our future may not approve of things we do in the present. Just like our past may not approve of what we do in present and our present may not approve of the future.

In each of these timelines, it is us who does these things. The same person. Yet why is it that every present self of us often regrets our past or future, and vice versa?

Because we change. We grow and our perspectives change about life.

In that moment of change, many times we regret our choices in life. But those are not bad choices. They were, are and will be the best choices we had to make in that particular timeline.

After all, we are the best of ourselves in the present.

The past was once our present.

The future will also be our present.

She too regretted many things of her past. But instead of burying one's self with penitence, she was starting to accept her mistakes and willing to become the best of her present.

As a result, she had left the jewellery shop empty-handed and now just traipsed around the town, on a cobblestoned path, with Ezra.

They had eaten out at McDonald's - one of her greatest desires since childhood, for she was never allowed to eat from such plebeian, according to her parents, food outlets.

When she had tasted the burger, her taste buds exploded into fireworks, bursting and popping the palatability. This was better than cocaine, but she had never done drugs, so her comparison could be considered invalid by many.

"Why was I such a sadist?" She marvelled at her restraint against such guilty pleasures which dwindled into nothingness now.

It was a rhetorical question, but it appeared Ezra could not control himself, "And I'm wondering how you've realised that only now."

Now, as they walked around the town, with a few bags of gardening tools for productivity during her spare time, her euphoria was reaching new bounds.

He, on the other hand, could not grasp how someone like her, who could have had access to the best cuisines at any expensive fine dining, was skipping around out of happiness from McDonald's burgers.

As he continued sneaking glances at her amazed, she too stood amazed, gawking at the Ducati motorbike parked along the sidewalk.

She had always wanted to learn how to ride a bike, but the minute she proposed it, her parents fixed an appointment with their family therapist. At the age of eighteen, she had understood the harsh reality of her world. People like her, despite all the wealth, live just like puppets. They would probably die like one too.

She never spoke of it again and everyone was back to normal. That did not mean she never remembered those missed opportunities. That she did not regret giving up easily. But even if she remembered, she still did not dare to just do things she liked. And so, in her desiderium, she only admired them from afar.

"You like bikes?" He asked surprised.

"Yeah…" she answered solemnly. 

"Then why don't you ride?" It was amazing how, sometimes, he understood her unspoken words.

"Because it wasn't expected of me."
He nodded. 

Then a minute later asked, "Did you ever regret it?"

"Multiple times."

"Then why keep doing that which you know you will regret later." It was not a question. It was a statement. 

He was only voicing out the conclusion she had reached to, years ago, but had been afraid of the consequences, namely the ridicule. 

What was the use of trying to be the perfect version everyone imagined her to be when it was not her? A question she had asked on multiple occasions when she had indulged in some good old Johnnie Walker.

But she never answered. Afraid that the moment she answered, her entire world would change. Everything she believed to be right would change. That she would no longer be the Ice Queen. That she would be a normal person, not an elite.

What was so bad about being normal? Why did people have to institutionalize the world they live in, breaking it into segments defined by earnings and lifestyle? But even as she found fault in the creators of an everlasting social discrimination, she realized it was the fault of people like her that such stigmas pertained for so long. Because people like her, who knew it was wrong, never took the first step into making the world a better place.

And so, she wanted to live as she desired. Even if it was against every single etiquette that was written. She could be shunned for being an outrageous rebellion and a bad influence on the budding teens, but what more could they do? She was already a pariah. Worse comes to worst she would be looked with eyes of unveiled contempt. But she will still be invited to gatherings because she was the daughter of Martin Winters and Vivienne Winters and not because she was Lilah Winters.

A sad reality.

“Ezra, take me out on a date.”