My heart felt like it was about to bounce right out of my chest, the intensity with which it was beating against my ribcage being much too strong for me to endure. This was not the only symptom of anxiety that I was suffering from—on the contrary, it was one of my. There was a numbness that had set into my bones, overtaking every single one of my senses, making me feel like my legs were going to give out beneath the weight of my body. It felt like I wouldn't be able to support myself for much longer, but even so, I knew that I didn't have much of a choice in the matter, either. I would need to continue doing so, regardless of how much physical strain I found myself facing.
I took a deep breath, doing my best to try and regain control of my emotions, but it seemed like that was much easier said than done, because it didn't help at all. I didn't feel better. On the contrary, I started to feel even worse than I already did. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole, but I knew that that was something that wasn't going to happen. I wouldn't be lucky enough for something like that to happen, especially not on a day like today. This would have been the best day for something like this to happen…
I closed my eyes, trying to take a moment to come to terms with the fact that I was about to walk down the aisle, to marry a man who I hadn't even met before. I didn't think that anyone cared about the way that I was feeling at the moment, but even if they did, I doubted that they would have done anything to try and help me out of this situation. If they knew the truth behind this situation, they would stare at me with pity and sympathy in their eyes—but they wouldn't do anything to try and make the situation better. They wouldn't help. They would simply watch me being forced to go through it all.
I could feel the tears starting to well up, and I opened my eyes, desperate to make sure that the tears did not manage to escape. I could only imagine what my mother was going to do if she noticed that my make-up was smudged. And she would know that everyone else would have noticed it too, and judging by the way that she had insisted on keeping all of this quiet and to herself, I could only imagine how upset she would be to find that the situation was slowly unravelling at the seams, now that everything was almost done.
I couldn't recall ever feeling as bad as I did now, and I had the feeling that it was just going to continue that way. My heart ached in ways that I had never believed possible. And the worst part of it all, was that I wouldn't even be able to talk to anyone, I wouldn't be able to explain anything that was going on in my mind and in my heart. It felt like everything was falling apart, and it was just going to continue falling apart until I had managed to adapt to everything that was going on in my life at the moment. I knew that that was something that I wouldn't be able to do any time soon, which made me feel even more morbid about the whole situation. Because I knew what was looming ahead of me…
I had to admit that I was surprised by the fact that my mother had decided that she could trust me not to run away, because instead of staying here with me and watching me like a hawk, as she had been insistent on doing this entire morning, she seemed to have had a change of heart. I knew that the truth behind the situation, was simply that she actually needed to be present in the chapel, so that everyone would be able to see her and acknowledge the fact that she was feeling very joyous on this beautiful day. I just wished that I would have been able to feel the same. It wasn't fair that I didn't even feel an ounce of joy on my wedding day.
We were currently just sitting in a closed off section of the chapel, where no one would be able to see us. Truthfully, I would have preferred to be somewhere that felt a little bit less gloomy, the dark blue colors of the room not doing much to aid the way that I felt. And to top off the situation, all of the bridesmaids that had seemed so happy to be here when my mother had been present, now looked like they were more than ready to leave too. But they couldn't. Because my mother had contracted them to do this, and if they didn't follow through with it, they wouldn't get paid.
It was a situation that I wouldn't be very eager to leave, because there would be so many consequences, and they probably hadn't even considered half of them. My mother had planned everything so well, that there wasn't a single person involved in this wedding who would dare to cross her. And I was certain of the fact that she had a plan for every possible situation that she would face today, and she would make sure that not a word of bad publicity managed to be spread regarding the wedding. Personally, I couldn't even care about what was said about the wedding, but I was also aware of the fact that I would need to face the things that were said after the wedding. So, the main point of the matter, was that I needed to think about what was going to happen afterward. The emotions that I was feeling now, was simply a part of the process that I would need to get myself through.
"How much longer are we going to wait?"
I looked at the bridesmaid who had been appointed as maid of honor, and I couldn't help but notice the fact that she was the one who was the most impatient out of all of us. She was the only one who wore a watch on her wrist, one that matched perfectly with her outfit—and that was the only reason why my mother had allowed her to keep it on. She had combed over all of them with hawk eyes, making sure that there wasn't so much as a hair out of place.
It took me a minute to realize that she had asked me the question, and I genuinely had no idea what I was going to say to her. It just didn't seem right for me to answer her, when I didn't even know the answer myself. It wouldn't have helped me at all to answer her and then frustrate her even more because my answer wasn't an accurate one. I felt like it became one of those situations that were just going to be more uncomfortable than anything.
I heard the door open, and I wasted no time in turning around and facing it to see who it was who had walked in—and truthfully, I couldn't have been more unfeeling towards the fact that it was my father. It took no effort from me at all to keep my expression neutral, to keep my father from being able to realize how I was truly feeling about everything that happened—and as far as I was concerned, if I could manage to convince my father that there was nothing wrong with me, then I would be able to convince everyone else of it, too. I considered this to be the perfect opportunity to practice.
I wasn't surprised when he immediately started to make his way towards me, closing the distance between the two of us like it was nothing—and that was truly something to be admired, considering the fact that my father had a bit of a beer belly that he had to drag around with him. But when he finally came to stand in front of me, it seemed to me that he was in a rather emotional state, and it was making me uncomfortable because everyone was staring at us. All of these girls, who I didn't even know from anywhere, were watching this encounter like they deserved to be here. And they didn't.
"You look beautiful."
Truthfully speaking, I had been expecting something like that to come out of his mouth. After all, it was only customary for things like this to be exchanged between a father and a daughter on a day such as today. Unfortunately for my sake, mine just wasn't as joyous as these moments ordinarily turned out to be. I could tell that my father was also carrying the weight of this moment and that it was impacting him quite heavily, because there were tears that had started to gather in his eyes.
But even though I could tell that he was being moved emotionally, I still couldn't help but take note of the stench of alcohol on him. If I didn't know any better, I would have found myself thinking that he had bathed himself in it. I didn't think that he fully realized that I was aware of it, but I guessed that it was only a matter of time before he realized that he should have made a better effort to hide all of it.
"Thank you."
I didn't know what else I was expected to say to him, and if I had to take a moment to be honest and truthful, I was willing to admit I didn't really want to say anything else to him. I wanted to get all of this over and done with, so that I would be able to put it behind my back and pretend that it had never impacted me in the way that it had. I wanted to be able to settle into the lie that would be my life, and I wanted to be able to do it as soon as possible.
I knew that the fact that my father was here, meant that my groom was here, because all of them had spent the morning together. I didn't know whether or not my father was aware of the fact that I was aware, but judging by the fact that he wasn't concerned or rushed at all, I felt like it was safe for me to assume that it was not the case. And even if he did know, it was likely that he didn't care. After all, it was exactly that attitude of his that had gotten us into this mess in the first place.
I knew that it was wrong of me to hold the kind of resentment that I felt, but there was nothing that I would be able to do about it, at least not for another while. It was something that had literally sent me to therapy, and I still hadn't been able to make any progress with it—and that was probably because I knew that my mother was paying the therapist to ensure that anything that I said, wouldn't go out into the newspapers. And I was certain of the fact that my mum was paying an arm and a leg to ensure that, and now, I was making sure that my mother was doing nothing more than wasting her money, because I wasn't saying anything impactful or valuable. But it was in moments like these where I found myself forced to question whether or not I was spiting her, or whether I was spiting myself, because the only person who was actually suffering from it, was me. I didn't even think that she was paying enough attention to the situation to know what was going on.
But I couldn't allow myself to think about all of that, not at a time like this.
It wasn't going to help me at all, and I had other things that I needed to focus on. I could only imagine what my mother was going to say to me after the service, once it became normal for her to address me. For now, she must be losing her mind, sitting in the front row and trying to keep herself from coming back here to look for me. Unless she knew that my father had come in here to see me. Perhaps if she knew that, she wouldn't be worried at all.
"Are you ready?"
Was I ready?
I didn't think that I was, but I also didn't think that I had much of a choice. Whether I wanted to be ready or not, it would not matter, because I would still need to walk down that aisle, regardless of how I felt. It was why I took a deep breath, trying to center myself and my thoughts, knowing that it was going to benefit me to keep my composure. It was something that I would have to do, for an indefinite amount of time—after all, who knew how long wedding ceremonies and reception parties tended to last?
"I am."
I was not.