TWENTY FIVE: SUNDRESSES & BUNGEE JUMPING

I READ SOMEWHERE, crying isn't defined by science. Tears are only meant to lubricate our eyes and clear the unwanted debris and dirt. And I think that tear glands don't hold any right to overproduce at the time of a weak situation. 

My vision was blurred as I looked at the ceiling feeling drugged, my heavy head rested on the leather couch in the living room, where everything happened a few hours ago. My heavy eyelids dropped lazily and drops of tears tracked the millions which rolled before. 

I was over the crying, sobbing and hiccuping stage and now what was left were silent tears in the dim lit room. I wish I could control them just like I muffled my crying by burning my face into the couch, restraining my sobs by worrying the lip till I could feel the metallic tinge of blood on my tongue and hiccups by dominating my brain to think about something else. It was difficult initially but things came at bay eventually. 

My eyes burned with the tears still left and I shut them tightly till I fell into oblivion. 

The sunlight seeped through my eyelids, irritating them. I opened my eyes and closed them immediately at the pain that shot through the nerves of my eyes, burning them. My head felt heavy due to the emotional breakdown which triggered a side effect of pounding my head. 

The white veil, wrapped around my wrist had turned crimson red and there were blotches of dried blood all over the white wedding dress. 

Sitting up straight, still holding my head, I unwrapped the cloth along my hand. I inspected the wonderful closely and it was still bleeding and I came to the conclusion that the cut was too deep. 

I stood up with wobbly feet, which were still asleep and managed to get to my room up the stairs. 

Bathing and changing into a fresh pair of clothes I decided to head to the nearest clinic to mend my wounds. 

***

I slice the cucumber and tomatoes to make a sandwich for me. Honestly, that's all I can make. I literally, suck at cooking. Back at my own house, Starbucks was the next building to my residence. Taking out and washing the vegetables, I carefully peel the cucumber making sure not to hurt the stitches. Yes, I got three stitches and maybe it wasn't the most hurtful accident but it still hurt like a bitch. 

I wince when I start slicing the tomatoes and pressure is applied on my wrist. And the plaster just looks disgusting, makes me feel like a patient. 

I look around the kitchen, trying to find the rock salt. Perks of cooking for the first day in a new house! 

I scoffed internally. Finally, I settle with regular salt to prepare my sandwich. 

The door clicked open and he entered. My jaw clenched as I looked through my lashes. I wasn't gonna talk to him ever. I continued with whatever I was doing. He moved up the stairs, I know because I heard his loud footsteps. 

"We are leaving in two hours for Switzerland. Pack up." He said from above the stairs and I stopped the knife of its tracks.

I tried coming up with a retort and opened my mouth. I looked up to his eyes which were challenging me to proceed. I gulped back the words when I realized how I was the one who agreed with grandma that we'd go for a honeymoon to Switzerland. 

At my lack of words, he took it as a yes and disappeared. Sighing, I finished with my sandwich and took a bite from it, not bothering to fetch a plate. And moreover, I had to 'PACK'.

I just want to pack him in a jute bag and throw him in the garbage bin. But I think that I won't even touch him. He doesn't even deserve any emotion from my side, I loathe him. 

I walked into my room and pulled out the suitcase.

I was going to enjoy it. It was my first excursion outside NYC. I won't let him dampen my life. He doesn't exist to me. It's my vacation. 

First went in the dresses; my best dresses- summer frocks and dresses which I never wore because I didn't look like 'me'when I wore them. I looked fragile and lively in them. Then, I threw my flats and sunglasses. 

Making a different bag for toiletries, I stepped back and looked at the luggage and sighed.

I wanted to scream in joy and excitement but the adrenaline stopped pumping in my body last night. I felt a bit less than the neutral self I was. I wanted to just sit and stare at the TV screen all day, not thinking, not feeling because I felt tired. Tired of my life. Death felt so easy and inviting. I almost craved it.

Pulling down my luggage down thirty- three steps wasn't a piece of cake. After huffing and puffing, and not losing my sanity I made it. 

I settled in the front seat next to him, promising myself not to talk, not to look and to believe that he wasn't there. I was shit sure about it. I plugged my ear plugs and dropped my head back when the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled my ears.

This type of music, with no lyrics helps me paint my own thoughts clearly with a natural background music. That's why I seeked them.

I wondered how adamant the waves were. No matter how many times the shore pushed them away, they always returned back. That was true love. It's not that only humans are capable of loving and being as sacrificing as nature. I doubt if we can even love. We just make acquaintances because we are lonely and need someone, not because we really desire them. Humans are just selfish and self centered, including me. 

And I know that I can never be as sacrificing as the waves or nature. My ego is bigger than anything. And also, I am insecure. I don't want to be left with nothing. What would I do with being charge less? 

The engine of the car died and the locks ticked open. My eyes fluttered before opening. I scrambled out and was about to pull out my luggage. 

But he said, "There are people watching. My hitch man will do it. Just walk. And try to behave happier and wipe that look from your face that you have been killed thrice. And walk-"

I walked away before he could end his so-called lecture. I was least interested in that, right-now or ever after.

He sucked in a breath behind me, as I walked towards the waiting area. I sat down and pulled out my phone and informed the NGO regarding I won't be in the town. Some people were reading books and I wondered how people could even read a book. I mean, how can you sit in one place and read for hours. I'd just get a headache if I do that. People just don't have work to do so they pass their leisure by staring at figures on a tarnished page.

***

I don't know how much god hates me or if it was written in my destiny but I had to sit between Theodore and an old man. The old man was on the window side.

"Sir, do you mind exchanging your seat with me?" I asked so politely that I was sure he couldn't say no for an answer.

"Oh, I am so sorry dear but this is my first ride in a flight. I want to see how the clouds look like from this up." He said pleasantly and so cheerfully that I bit my tongue before a string of curses flew out of my mouth.

I grunted and closed my eyes, falling back. Why don't he do paragliding or bungee jumping or whatever? Plane is for travelling, for God's sake and not to look at cotton candies. Ew, I hate cotton candies. I hate sweets. I hate everyone. 

Theodore was smirking and I could feel it with my eyes closed. I opened my eyes and looked over casually. Hoping, he won't know I was looking at him.

 He was working on his laptop. He seriously didn't give two flying fucks about anything but his goddamn work. And I was just imagining hum smirking at me.

Why was I getting frustrated?

I don't want his attention.

No, I didn't.

***

When he kissed her
She felt as if she was losing her mind
And when he kissed her twice
She wasn't sure if she wanted it back.

***