On Seeing My Friend in a Wedding Dress
Last week my friend called to tell me she had a boyfriend. My head spun and I imagined what would happen ten years from now. This is a half reality and half fictitious story that grew from that conversation.
There are some feelings and emotions that you get to experience only once in your life. Like going to your best friend’s wedding. When I say best friend, I mean the sunshine of your days. The person you shared your room with, the person who’d buy you Pipes of Peace at the flea market and bring your lunch box to work. I hold her hand when she cries – she doesn't like hugs but knows that I do so she always embraces me. We woke up and fell asleep together. We went to the supermarket on Sunday evenings and planned what we would eat for the whole week. I always made her tea in the afternoon and she would be the first person to encourage me to publish my poems. We were like mother and daughter, sisters and lovers although there was never a lecture, a kiss or blood shared.
During my second year at university, I decided to study abroad and she would sing me Ain’t No Sunshine on a phone. We were 2,082 kilometers apart but it was like having her there beside me most of the time and when I came back, we continued living our lives filled with mutual love.
I wish everyone to be able to love and feel loved. It's the best feeling in existence. You don't need a boyfriend/girlfriend to do that. You have yourself, your mum, dad, brother, sister, grandmas and grandpas, pets and friends. We all can experience love but not everyone can see their best friend in a wedding dress. It’s okay if you don’t, but I’m not so sure if it’s okay if you do.
Two weeks before the wedding day I've been feeling dazed. Like having a constant migraine. The Vietnamese restaurant down the road stopped doing vegetarian spring rolls. I avoided public transport and got blisters on my heels.
And now I'm standing in a cathedral, waiting for her and her dad to show up. The blisters didn't manage to heal and are now having active relations with my high heels. Her face is the only object I can focus on. The wedding dress is alienating her. Who is she? The Pollock stream of emotions is starting to pour. The person that knows everything about me is signing a contract to a new life. Life-long agreement between two parties. The distance between Us is now 2,082 kilometers.
From what I know, people are usually happy when attending one’s wedding. Maybe you were happy too, but all I was, was sad and egoistic. Deep down I’m very, very selfish but thankful for admitting that. Being honest with yourself is harder than with anyone else.
This whole wedding thing feels like a betrayal. I’m no longer able to speak to her as we used to. Ever again. What was normal on a daily basis is not available anymore.
Some may say I still can - getting married has no effect on perceiving people. But that's a lie. And you know that. Everything affects you. Even the smallest things do affect you - like sitting in a library for an hour. So what about two hundred people at a wedding in a cathedral?
I’m losing the grip of things I've never known had a leash. I created them so why would I fear to lose them? They simply got ahead of me.
My schedule got changed so many times for the sake of spending time with her and now the same person is voluntarily leaving me behind and applying all the lessons we've taught together on someone else. I feel betrayed and sad because I had chosen none of this. I haven’t even chosen to be a friend with her.
The biggest love is in letting go. But I'm still only learning. Forgive me for not being able to love you enough. You let me go to study abroad, now it's my turn. I want you to feel alive and loved. Sunshine helped us to grow up and its light will guide us through our days.
Pollock’s wrist was gently stopped by Hockney’s hand. Precise outlines replaced abstraction as they wrote:
I will always hold you close but learn to let you go. I promise.
But can you really promise something like that?
by Ema Nemcovicova