What Should Have Been

Cold Feet

This is her day. Her wedding day. She is to be married to the man of her dreams. So why doesn't it feel that way? Sure, she always imagined she would be shivering with nervous excitement on this day, but should her stomach be churning like a raging river with doubt... with regret... with guilt? Indeed, her feet are cold. So cold. Too cold. Ice cold. Can I go on with this? She asks herself. This is a marriage, after all. She had dreamt of this day so many times, and the very man she'd dreamt of is waiting for her to walk down the aisle. So why does this feel so wrong?

Just a few week's worth of events have her thinking differently, feeling differently. She fights with herself. For years, I've wanted this. Who am I to give it all up over something I've felt for weeks? Yet, the doubt that nags at her is far too great. This is forever – or should be, at least. I have to take into consideration my current feelings, and right now, everything in me is telling me, "No, don't do this!"

"Sakura... Sakura!" A shrill voice shouts, shaking Sakura from her intense thoughts. "Damn, where did you go?" Ino mutters. Then, her voice becomes soft. "If you're worried about how you look, you look drop-dead gorgeous. Billboard brow and all." She adds with a smirk. Sakura focuses on herself in the mirror then. Maybe Ino-pig was right. Maybe she would look decent in Sasuke's eyes today. Her green eyes sparkle like emeralds, and she had grown her light pink hair long enough to caress her breasts. She was swathed in white. Pure white. Pure, pure, pure. But she knew of a man who might find her – as Ino said – "drop-dead gorgeous," rather than simply "decent." She only feels "acceptable" in Sasuke's eyes, "acceptable" to have as his wife, and "acceptable" enough to bear his offspring and help him restore his clan. God, is that really all I am to him?  She begins to sweat.

Knock, knock. There's a subtle rap at the door – sort of like the gentle "nurse knock" she uses every day. "Sakura, are you ready?" A stern voice asks from behind the door. Her heart flutters like a hummingbird in her chest – not at the thought of today's events but at something else entirely. No, no, no! Screams her mind, yet she nods numbly - mostly to herself - considering he obviously can't see her just yet. She then stands unsteadily, still so unsure, but there's no more time.