i, epigram
write wide, write deep

a trip down the aisle

“In the end it's not about how many breaths you took. 
In the end it's about the moments that took your breath away.”

 

a trip down the aisle

 
 
 

His name was Jonathan. I thought we shared a moment. I thought his smile was breathtaking. It was - at least three days ago it was.

I had come home without being able to stop thinking about him. It was downright frustrating.

We had been standing side by side, my right hand linking his arm. Anyone can feel the excitement and anticipation thick in the air. In front of the double wooden doors, three couples stood in line. Nervous. It seems like the candle lighters were taking all eternity to light those bloody candles. Jonathan and I were the last pair. Behind us stood the maid-of-honor, Nicole, and behind her, the beautiful bride and her father. This is it. Sandra’s wedding day. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin it by tripping over and falling flat on my face.

“Don’t let me trip and fall, okay?” I looked up at the man standing confidently next to me, giving him half a smile. I might have sounded like I was joking, but I wasn’t. The last thing I wanted to do was mess up my roommate’s big day.

“Don’t worry. I won’t,” came the reply. As I heard his deep, warm voice, I looked back at him with a huge smile engraved on my face. The sight I saw triggered a response I never have experienced in my 21 years of being alive. My knees turned to Jell-O. If I wasn’t holding on to his arm, I would surely have collapsed on the carpeted floor. And my heart? I think it stopped beating for several seconds. During that time, only silence and excitement prevailed. No heartbeat, no breath. Silence.

Mind you, I am one that has always been confident about guarding my heart. My close friends could testify that I’m not one to wear my heart on my sleeve. Yet one look from him sent a surge of foreign electricity all over my body.

My confidence and constant protection of my feelings went out the window the moment I laid eyes on his face. He had a soft, gentle smile. His eyes were looking straight at me. I feel weird describing it this way, but his eyes were smiling the same warm smile his lips formed. When I met his gaze, I felt like he was truly looking at me. For that one moment, he only had eyes for me. I was the only one that mattered. The rest of the world reduced to a blur.

After what seemed like an eternity, we both broke our gaze. As I straightened my bouquet, my right hand had linked his arm further so that it wrapped around his arm, inching our bodies closer. My grip was more confident. And, although it is hard to explain, feeling his body next to mine made me feel

safe.

It felt good.

But now, three days later, a new feeling had seeped into the equation. Doubt.

My feelings, as I remembered, did not get clouded by the rush of doubt. The memory of the moment still gave me the tingly feeling it gave me three days ago. However, the doubt came as a fog that clouded the memory of his face on my mind.
Was his smile as warm as I imagined it to be? Or was he looking at me like i was some annoying girl? Was he merely humoring me?

I am quite aware that I probably won’t get to see him again. But I can’t seem to stop thinking about him. He’s constantly in my head. 

Constantly.

I’ve told myself to stop, but for once in my life, my own self won’t obey me.

Constantly.

Really, there’s nothing I can do.

Constantly.

All I’ve got for myself is the memory of that moment,

when he took my breath away.


August 11, 2009

A note to some of my friends reading this and trying to decipher who I'm talking about, look at the date. It was in 2009. Whoever you think it is, it's not him. It was a meeting and passing. I wasn't in love with him. It was a moment. It passed.