she picks up the invitation card lying on the dinner table. takes it out of the envelope. handmade paper, light saffron in colour, with the names of the bride and groom delicately etched in brush strokes of magenta lined with silver. names of members of both families , fill one side of the card entirely. the parents (with their designations) humbly beseech her presence at this auspicious occasion. the venue is a new 4-star hotel in the suburbs. the menu vegetarian.
she takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and allows her mind to drift, as her fingers play with the thin golden thread that bordered the card.
she's known them for years, though not intimately. they are friends of the family. she knows she has to oblige her mother and turn up at the happy event. she doesn't mind these things as much nowadays.
there was a time when it annoyed her a great deal. the same conversations with the same people. the same goddamn questions. why can't everybody just get over it?!
she imagines those goose bumps on her arm, the way she used to get, many years ago, whenever she'd get agitated. she used to be fiesty. they called her a rebel-kid right from her early teens. as she grew older, her rebellions found direction and purpose. she couldn't stand being cornered or caged. wild and untamed, that's how she saw herself. she refused to let anyone control her.
that was till she met him. and he changed her life. no, that's not right. he didn't change her. she allowed change to happen. she welcomed it. she came to realise that her independence of so many years meant nothing if she had no one to share her life with. that depending and to be depended upon were good things - to breathe every waking breath for someone else, was to really live, and not just exist. they weren't lovers like that, but if love could've manifested itself in their circumstances, that's exactly how it would've been.
she sighs, and looks out the window. as if she can see those days clearly in the wind and moonlight.
for the good times, and the better times, yours forever, xoxoxo.
she doesn't blame him. she knows that he tried harder than she ever did, to make things work.
we're really not making sense any more.. i don't think i can do this any more..
she can't remember who ended it. who ran away and hid. who couldn't face a world littered with memories of their love. it's all such a blur, really.
she turns to the envelope in her other hand. where her name is written neatly in ink. the '& family' struck off as aesthetically possible. she laughs to herself, takes another look at the card, and leaves it where she found it.
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