She was sitting at the back, watching the wedding of her lover. He looked handsome and debonair. His wife to be was thin and ordinary looking. She sat there among her friends with a hollow pain in her heart and inflicting upon herself this torture of seeing her loved one tying the knot with someone else other than her. It was like she was punishing herself over and over. She knew she would never find another lover like this in her lifetime.
She thought of the night before, the last day of his bachelor hood, free to do what ever he wanted. Midnight they had all met in the bar. Drinks passed hands and everyone was high, singing and dancing and pulling his leg. She also had her favourite drink in her hand and was watching him from beneath her eyes, he seemed to be having more than his usual quota. He then came and sat next to her and they held hands, no one seemed to notice. Their hands slowly intervening and telling stories, of wanting to hold on and wanting to let go. A warmth had spread over her and she had wanted to surrender all of herself to him then and there, but something held her back. Their silence was telling and then he gave her a chaste kiss and left without a backward look. She sat there lost in her thoughts. She went back to her room drunk.
And here she was watching her beloved getting married, getting committed to a lifetime of bondage to another one. She had, had many lovers in her lifetime, men ready to give her their life. Every individual had been a new experience. Getting to know them, making them feel wanted, feeding their egos and putting them in their place when things went out of control. She had enjoyed all the relationships. But nothing could surpass her last one.
It seemed like eternity, their first meeting. She had joined a concern and one-day it so happened that she had got into an argument with him over seat sharing. It started with a fight, later it turned to friendship and then into companionship. She spent all her time with him. Staying with him, sharing thoughts, feelings, discussing, and arguing. They had even shared a room together. They had been together for three years. A perfectly understanding relationship. He had turned out to be the best among of the lot. He already had a girl whom he was in love with for more than 8 years, for her it didn`t matter, as long as he had time for her. His smile, attitude, care, thoughtfulness, looks, everything had seemed like magic. Their relationship had been so smooth and filled with hours of happiness and laughter and yet here she was watching him and letting go. Both of them had known that eventually he would marry his first love but still they had continued with their relationship.
She wondered about the future, how was she going to be by herself and not keep wanting to go to his room, lie down on the bed and talk for hours, past midnight and watch the sun rise? The hours of talks between them, riding on his motorbike, hugging him and letting the wind play with her hair. She was going to miss it all. A deep ache was all that was left behind. She was sure there would never be one like him. She would always compare others with him and get dissatisfied. She felt like crying. But no, she would not cheapen the relationship by crying. She had to be brave, for herself. Keep the smile and dimples in place, until she left the wedding hall.
But now the time had come for her to let go, as long as he had been single he had been ready to share himself with her, spend time with her. But now he was someone else`s and she had no hold over him. He seemed far away from her, smiling at his wife and holding her hands and looking into her eyes. Her heart was heavy, unshed tears hurt her eyes and she wanted to run away. But then he had wanted her there for his wedding and she had agreed to come. Now she had to go up and wish them both well. Straightening her shoulders and plastering a smile on her face she walked up the dais to the smiling couple.