A Wedding's Eve
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A Wedding\'s Eve

"In no time I'll be another kind of person...- told to herself a pretty lovely lady as she was lying on her bed.

She intended to light a cigarette; and she'd already done it in the same instant in which she remembered she had quited smoking. She just put it out, 'cause she wanted most that every single decision she made never had a turning back.

-"I wonder what will happen with my independence...- she insisted, with a renewed interest-. Will I be still free to make a mere decision upon my own life?... Yes, I will... does not exist the one who can make me hesitate... Yes, I've given my word... Parole d'honneur! And the independence starts from the respect I do feel for my own word and...- she stopped when from the threads of her thoughts was about to be pronounced the word promise...

She continued calmer:

-I've just accepted to be as understanding as I can be with this new reality... It will be a great sacrifice, but the rejoice which I'll feel could not be compared with any personal prospect...Besides, I'm certain that every single act of my life in common will be developed in a perfect and, most of all, coherent harmony... Of course, I know for God's Sake!..., there will be many things I've got to learn... I admit it! And if someone were right here at this moment I'd do it in a solemn way...

She was not quite sure of the truthfulness of this last statement.

Then she stood up and got close to the window.

Her room's window had the view of the backyard of her parents' house. It was a small square where a tree -which had been planted many time before she was born and she used to climb it without a satisfactory result every time she tried it- provided a petty shadow. The questions were so deep that she had forgotten about the quitting smoking matter and had lit another cigarette. Opened up the window and, plunged into a sudden melancholy, swollowed the smoke with a sort of wicked pleasure... She sighed deeply for the lost childhood's days and she back to her untidy bed...

And yes, she was sad again.

Why did a twenty-five years old girl feels such a gloomy sensation that very night? That very night! Her wedding's eve night...

-"I shouldn't have looked through the window...- repeated herself several times as if it was a kind of antidote against the tribulation which she still tried to deny...

A headache and an aspirine.

-Memories make me sick- muttered in a bad temper.

Again in bed she snuggled her cheeks into the soft pillow... She'd had so much time for recalling! But now every milimeter of her childish room seemed to stress in a lively way all those memories which never had been forgotten by her.

She pictured herself being a child once again, just for a while, for a sacred instant...

But when Mom and Dad appareances were more sporadic, and the fairy tales were replaced by certain gossiping and giggles at the sight of her Romeo, a shiver went up and down her entire body.

At this memory she just rushed to the wardrobe, in the darkest angle of the room. Next to be hysterical, she checked out every corner of the furniture, looking for a memory worthy of her sadness...

At the bottom, just right under a countless quantity of boxes and bags, she found out, smiling satisfactory, a very tiny casket wrapped in a blue velvet fabric.

She sat on the edge of her bed, placed her little treasure over her long and naked legs, and then, doubful, she opened it up.

A dusty heap of envelopes were shown to her eager eyes. There were a lot of souvenirs, invitations, and even a diary whose pages had throb along with her teenager heart. She took it out and pretended to be a daring amazon who faces her tribulated destiny... But the truth is that she felt afraid of bursting into tears for her wonderful past days...

She put it into the casket again and took out one of the letter of the heap instead.

-I'm a coward- she accused herself.

Carefully she unwrapped the sheet of paper and her eyes had to read.

At first the words seemed meaningless, and every concept described within such a scrabble of grammatical signs did not have nothing to do with what she intended to find out. However, when she read and understood the word love, her attention improved...

We'll mention that it was a letter of love...

The epistle had been written by a nameless author; and in spite of her search she never knew who'd sent her such a letter. Even though she'd never been certain of the desire for knowing the unknown suitor. She just set on her mind the way she liked him most. And every time she went through a distressful mood -just like she remembered sitting on her bed while that piece of paper shivered in her finger tips-, those praising words increased her downcast self-esteem...

It's time to say that it was a plain marriage proposal.

It was true that she burst out into laughing at first -she was only seventeen by that time-; but when her eyes looked over the final lines -as a trembling twisted delightfully her entire body-, she found herself weeping of joy...

And that night she didn't want to read the whole letter, but only those final lines. It was a kind of poetry -we do not dare to make any sort of literaty judgement on it-, and it said something like this:

"Fed up my heart is

´cause nonsenses my mind agreed.

And when the laughs came up from their lips,

Shame I felt when I thought of thee...

Shall my heart feel the strengh of your love dreams?

Shall I tell what truly is inside of me?

Spoke up the man to set his belief.

And once gathered we heard, amazed, the tales of his sins...

Shall the fate beat once again my pride defeated?

Shall the wind have the strengh for blowing the leaves of my desires tree?"

At the P.S the nameless author had added that it wouldn't matter to him whatever might happen, but he promised he was going to marry with her. She felt proud of herself, flattered, remarked and all that stuff the very first time she read those lines. But that night the reading of such phrases made her to be mixed up, bewildered... She would not have known what to say if that nameless and passionate admirer had ever appeared in front of her. Perhaps she would have laughted at the sight of him...

That desperate night she longed to meet him so badly that the effective impossibility of such desire grew worse all her sudden doubts and fears.

She placed all her memories into the blue velvet casket and laid on bed once again.

-"Would I have been happier if I had met him? -returned to her soliloquy, turned her face to the pillow-. Was he an incipient poet or something?

Then she thought of her husband to be:

-"Well, he's a hard working guy and... He's not very expressive of his feelings but lookin' at him into his eyes one would notice what goes on in his heart...; and what happens never will be insurmountable...

The fiancée closed her eyes and over the dark wall of her eyelids, reflected the fist time she had met him.

It didn't have none extraordinary peculiarity such a first time. The inicitiave had depended on the boy's interest. The young lady had limeted her female expectancies to a sort of pasive acceptation of the boy's proposal.

Over their third date he asked her to marry him; and a year later, among millions of kisses and secrets, a blushed she, accepted the proposal and the engagement ring.

They were twinty-three and they already had decided to bring up two children: a kid and a girl. A couple, just like them...

And before she's got asleep, a flashing image went through her mind:

-"For my life..., would I have been happier than this if I had given a chance to my poet?"

And as you may think, next day she was absolutely stunning and lovely...

The bridegroom's eyes shone with pleasure everytime he looked at the splendor of her beauty. At the same time, the bride's eyes were also pleased at the sight of him.

The neatness of him -dressed in a traditional grey morning suit- delighted her and improved on her mind each one of her tenderness feelings about him. And when the priest allowed them to kiss each other's lips, the wife and man gave the most lovely kiss they ever did.

The crowd in church burst into a clamorous applause.

By the celebration's ceremony the harmony between the couple seemed to last for ever and ever. Parents, relatives and friends laughed and made jokes to the brand new spouses.

Over a corner, the bridegroom's best friend stood up, and knocking with a dirty spoon a glass in the traditional fashion, required the general attention.

The crowd silenced and seemed to listen to the first speech of the night was about to be said. The man, cleared his throat, and started to speak in a sing-song voice:

-"It's a privilege for me to be the first person in speaking on behalf of the bridegroom's friends and relatives...- started the young man addressing the crowd-. I won't particulary talk about his personal qualities... For well we do know them... I'd like to emphasize that one can feel himself the happiest man on earth when beholds the immense happiness of a beloved friend... And what's more important, such a happiness is built from his deepest longings...- he paused here and he drank a bit of water.

Continued with an excessive passionate tone of voice:

-"I don't know if I'll be allowed to reveal a secret, but given the highly special circumstances, I think I won't forgive myself if I didn't say it...- at this point the bridegroom smiled with certain embarrassment and the bride, as well as the whole crowd, stressed her attention...

-"The fact is that I feel myself responsible in certain aspect of this marriage... -the guy smiled lightly, as if he was enjoying in advance for the secret he was about to reveal-. I had to write... No, that's not the right expression... Let's say that I had to compose a poetry in order to catch the bride's little heart.. As for all we knew, both the bridegroom and I, the bride never knew who had written those verses... It was a long time ago..., we were teens... But let me declare that...

The speaker, evident it was, couldn't retake the thread of his address. And when he apparently didn't know what to say, impetuously he peformed the poetry...

By the end of it, everyone around clapped and shouted with joy. The bridegroom's best friend embraced the bridegroom and kissed the bride's cheek, a little grown red, indeed.

The speeches and vowes of good will and happiness continued. However pretending to listen to them the bride tried to get and excuse for being alone just for a while.

Somehow she managed to go the bathroom. She locked up the door and then she sat on the toilet. She had stolen a cigarette to her sister-in-law. Close her eyes as she lit the cigarette, and when she opened them up again, she was already sobbing and crying, hopelessly...

Fifteen minutes later, smiling tenderly, she performed the opening waltz along with her husband.

Street Talk

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