The God's Bride
- Reads 46
- Votes 1
- Parts 1
Ongoing8m
Last published Wed, Feb 22, 2023
Holding on the hand of my beloved fiance as we walk down the isle as we are about to finally say our vows, the church was filled with happiness with flowers welcoming us to the front.
The way to the Altar felt as if it stretch far and wide but it looked as if it was a start of our life as a married couple, my fiance smiles lovingly at me and I laughed seeing his expression. When we walked near first line of guest, my steps stops as soon as I realized the person besides me had paused his steps.
As if he had been finally saw the world in colors, fascinated and filled with curiosity, his gaze looked at my sister in my family seats. Their eyes met and I knew that day they'd fallen in love.
What surprised me other than the pain in my heart was the passing memories, a sense of familiarity and different timelines, different events, and different past versions of my life that also had encounter this moment.
My heart shattered and I died that very day.
After being reminded by all of my thousand previous memories of heartache, I finally decided to let go.
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stronglove
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I am wide awake. At 3 am, and all I can think about is him, turned to his left, left cheek squished onto his pillow, eyes shut, not tight shut but gently shut. Him breathing quietly and a soft light from the window falling upon his face. Sleeping. All I can think about is how he is at peace, sleeping without a care in the world. Even if tomorrow he would wake up stressed and agitated. Right now he is asleep, peacefully, and here I am. Staring at the ceiling, begging to god to stop the pain, my hands entwined together, saying to him that I'm tired and that I'm not as strong as He thinks I am. I still believed in Him, because whenever I lost faith, I got a reason right away to not lose it. My dearest was at peace, he was happy without me. And this time I knew. He was not coming back. He was gone. And all my memories of his smile, his hair, his body scent, his hands, the scars on his body, his two vampire-like teeth, his expressions, his cheesy lines, his eyes. His eyelashes, eyebrows, and the way he used to light up after seeing me rushed in. Of how his eyes didn't shine when we met for the last time. How I missed the special way we used to say goodbye. He loved me. He always had. He put in all his efforts just to see me. He did it all. But he didn't love me, not anymore.
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