The Happiest Day of My Life

As the music starts, I look down the aisle and smile. It’s supposed to be reassuring but you’ll accuse me of being condescending later. My mum is wiping a tear from her eye. She’s wearing a lilac dress and a bittersweet smile �" she probably wishes dad was here. I’m glad he’s not. He’d be ashamed. She thinks this is the happiest day of my life but when I say those two words, I’m trapped with you forever. You’re halfway up the aisle now. I have an itch where the cuff of my shirt meets my arm but I can’t scratch it �" I might show off the purple bruising on my arm. How did I get myself stuck in this mess? Your dad passes me your hand and walks away. It’s show time.

I look into your eyes and blindly repeat the priest. These vows mean nothing �" you’ve already broken most of them. I reach out to put the ring on your finger and notice small bruises across your knuckles. It’s only a fraction of the pain you’ve inflicted on me. I must have paused because I suddenly feel a crushing on my left hand. How long have you been holding it? Since you gave me the ring? I can’t believe I’m about to agree to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re a monster.

“I do.”

Oh god. I said it. I feel myself starting to panic and take a deep breath. To our audience, I must just look like an overwhelmed new husband. I suppose I am but not out of happiness: out of fear. I think that deep down, I had hoped that today would change you. As if me being your husband would stop you from hurting me. Standing outside the church, people throw confetti and congratulations. I want to scream. I want to tell the truth. We make our way across to the town hall for the reception and the speeches start.

“Thank you all for coming today. We’re so happy we could share our day with you.”

These words are as empty as your heart. How can I sincerely thank people for coming to watch me marry a cruel, manipulative animal who treats me like a doormat? No, like a punch bag? We have our whole lives ahead of us and I don’t know if I can cope with that. We have our first dance and, lost in the moment, I almost forget that you hate me. We cut the cake and I’m reminded. The slice is squint. It’s going to be my fault and I will be punished. I’ve tried so hard not to mess up today, not to upset you. Not to give you an excuse to break my arm again. I’ve never been to hospital in Brazil but I made sure there was a good one close to our hotel. Isn’t that sad? I booked our honeymoon location based on access to emergency medical treatment. Sometimes I think that I’m an accessory to the attacks on myself. I never speak up. I hide my bruises, my cuts. I let you do this to me and I’m going to keep allowing it because it has become the status quo. I wouldn’t know what to do, anyway. This is my life now. Until death we do part.

We walk out of the door hand in hand, heading towards the car. You smile for the crowd and play the happy newlywed so convincingly, I almost believe it. When we start to drive, though, the act is gone and your vindictiveness returns. Of course I smiled condescendingly. I paused before slipping on your ring to make a fool of you. I definitely walked too quickly out of the church on purpose. I missed a step during the first dance because I’m too lazy and I don’t care. I cut the cake slanted to make your life as difficult as possible. I did everything wrong today because I wanted to annoy you. I wish I wasn’t such a weak person. I wish I could stand up for myself. I know I won’t but it’s always nice to dream. I notice that there are tears pricking my eyes so I blink them quickly away. I don’t need taunted for being a baby. Not today.

We pull up outside the house. I stop the engine and we walk, wordlessly, towards the front door. You go upstairs and I go to the kitchen. We’re physically metres from each other but mentally and emotionally, you’re on another planet. I turn on the kettle and make a cup of coffee, loosening my tie and unbuttoning my jacket. The kettle has only just boiled when you walk in, no longer in your wedding finery, and splash its contents in my face. That’s for my mistakes at the altar. I resign myself to the fact that I am about to discover just how severe my wrongdoings for today were. A punch in the stomach. Four to my left ribcage, five to my right. A head-butt to the face �" I think my nose is broken. Finally, you grab my arm and push it up behind my back. I’m pinned to the table and with your spare hand you pull my head back with my hair. You slam it on the table. Again. Again. Again. The wood is a puddle of my blood. Again. Again. Again. I can’t see straight anymore.  There are black spots blocking my sight. Again. Again. Agai…

Reviews

[Yangy]

Soo happy, that is. 100%(!)