He knows that she has sacrificed but never before has he understood how much. Never before has it been so obvious as of right now when he has her walking down the aisle, towards him, for him. She takes small steps, slow, those steps someone decided long ago that brides should walk. It’s just another patriarchal way the church used to restrain women, you know. Her wedding dress is long and made of liquid fabric, beautiful, and in her one hand she holds roses. On the other his father walks because her own father is long gone and she has been adopted into their family and soon, after this marriage, she will be one of them for real. For so long he has wanted this, waited for this and after all it was only a marriage, right? If she didn’t believe in it, which she didn’t, means with which you restrain dreams then it was just a bunch of papers and a ceremony. Nothing at all. But when he sees her doing this, not for her but for him, that is when he grows cold.

Her face has been made up into perfection, all flaws eliminated for a day that is supposed to be the happiest day of their lives yet, when she nears him, he cannot see it in her. She, so unrestrained and exuberant; she shows nothing of what he has come to expect from her but it didn’t strike him because of that. No, that is not what is special. It is her hair. I just love it being out of control, you know? Slicked back. A sense of liberty. Hanging down, tied back with a clip. It makes me feel as if I, just for a moment, can be different. Restrained. And so that is when he moves forward, quickly, leaving the priest and best man behind, and he walks half the way down the aisle and stops in front of her.
“You don't want to do this.”
I don’t think I ever want to be married.
“You don’t want to do this.”
I don’t see the point, I guess.
“Jass, why are you doing this.”
I mean, why can’t people simply trust their supposedly soul-mate to stay with them forever?
She blinks at his words, more of a statement than a question.
“Why do you think I’m doing it, Pete?”
“For me. I think you’re doing it for me.”
She smiles. It is soft and it is beautiful. Somewhere behind the painted mask of makeup and proper hair styling he can see her.
“Of course I am, you bloody idiot.”
Now she has cursed in the church too. I don’t think I’ll ever have respect for that god fellow. He doesn’t even seem very nice.
“Why else would I do it? I love you and this matter to you. Of course I do it for you.”
I don’t see any difference in speaking to one or several persons at the time. Words are just words. Her words are spoken in front of the priest and several hundred guests. She has never met the majority of the people before.
“Jass. You can’t do it for me.”
“Then why in hell would I?”
He places his hand on her cheek and then touches her very short hair by her ear. Her black hair.
“Your hair.”
She looks at him with questions in her eyes.
“It’s not spiky.”
For several seconds they meet each others’ eyes.
“So. What do you want to do?”
Her voice is not uncertain, nor is it timid. She awaits his answer and he is silent.
“You know, Peter, it really doesn’t matter to me. You know it doesn’t. But in the same way that you’ll take my last name-“ a gasp through the church it’s a part of me “-I’ll marry you. Those are things we want to do for the other. Don’t call it a sacrifice. Call it a gift.”

artonde oktober tvåtusentio

3 kommentarer:

  1. Tack för du susade in hos mig! Nu ska ja läsa här! Spännande! Kram!

  1. Froste says:

    Tack så mycket, Alexandra!

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Ge mig ett ögonblick av din tid.

"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future; concentrate the mind on the present moment."


Ett ögonblick.

It dawned on her and her entire world changed. Just like that. During one moment. That's all it takes. And moments - they're all we've got.

Here is a collection of moments. They are moments in which decisions are made, life-changing things happens, moments in which people finally stand up for what they believe in; fragments of lives bound in a single moment during which people shrink back in fear and terror. In some moments nothing at all happens.

Here they are. Moments of the World.


All men dream; but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recess of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act out their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible.
T.E. Lawrence

I am Me.

18 years of age and expected to have a whole life planned, expected to know and to want. I don’t want much else than being happy, but people don’t like when you answer questions like that. It makes me a bit sad but there’s no need to worry: slowly, I’m changing the world.