A breeze rustled the leaves, and I stared again at my feet. I was supposed to be inside right now, getting my hair done, chatting with my Caroline, my best friend, the one whom I was supposed to be a maid of honor to. Today was her day, and I was supposed to be inside, there to support her. Instead, I was outside, caught up in my own selfish thoughts. I sighed, trying to avoid the thought my brain kept returning to. But I soon realized that there was no way to avoid it. I loved him. The man whom my best friend was about to marry, I loved him. I always had, and I knew that I always would.
It wasn’t fair, really. The way she had acquired him. I had known him first. Well, I had kind of introduced them actually. Stupid on my part, but what could I do about it now? It didn’t matter. What had happened was in the past, and all of a sudden we were at her wedding. She had stolen the only person I had ever admitted to myself that I loved, and now I had to go inside and pretend like I was happy for her. “Congratulations on stealing my dreams!” I wished I could say. But that was cheesy, and I knew she had never known that she was stealing from me.
She loved me. And I loved her. We were best friends, and we had been since sixth grade. We had gone to the same high school, but different colleges. But our friendship didn’t crumble like some of my other ones. We still hung out over weekends, caught up, and we remained as close as sisters. We had always been willing to tell each other everything, and I knew all of her secrets.
But there was one important secret that I was keeping from her. That I loved her fiancé. And every time I saw the two of them together, I got a sharp pain in my chest. And I really never had gotten over the thing we had had in high school.
His name was Bennett. And we had met junior year. While Caroline was blowing me off to hang out with who she thought was the love of her life at the time, I had met Bennett. We had clicked immediately, with similar music and literature tastes, it didn’t take long for us to become great friends. Soon enough he asked me out. We dated for about fourteen months, just about to the end of my senior year in high school. It was the most amazing time of my life. I got to experience that teenage love, where there are incredible highs and devastating lows. I snuck out of my house many times to meet Bennett, and sometimes we just drove off and didn’t come back until the next morning, just early enough for me to sneak back into my room. We listened to the same music, we always had things to talk about, and the times were incredible. Sometimes I would go over his house, and we would just sit on his roof and look at the stars. I honestly can’t think of a time when I felt happier than I did whenever I was with Bennett.
But, like everything else in life, things changed. We changed. I told Bennett that I wasn’t interested in having a long term relationship, and so I ended it before we went to college. He was devastated. He asked me to try and make it work with him, but I was too caught up in chasing my dreams. I had always wanted to fly. And just about two weeks before I broke up with Bennett I had gotten a scholarship to flight school. It was my dream come true. I wasn’t interested in being dragged down, so of course I seized the opportunity. I broke up with Bennett, I ran away, and I decided that flying, getting away, was the biggest priority in my life. Little did I realize that later I would find a new passion that would seize me.
I had never liked cooking. I just always ate what was put in front of me, because I knew I would never be able to make myself something better. But when my mom passed away when I was in the middle of my second year of flight school, I knew that I could never leave my hometown like I planned to. Flying was just not an option anymore. My dad was all alone in the empty house, and he needed me. So I pulled myself out of flight school, and I moved back into my old house. Of course my mom had been the one to cook all of my father’s meals, so the man knew how to make a cheese sandwich and that was about it. He didn’t even know what kind of milk he was supposed to buy.
I began cooking simple things, such as spaghetti, soup, anything that I could easily figure out. But as time went on, I got more creative. I started making more homemade meals, and I got to know my way around a kitchen. The moment when I realized I loved cooking came when I made my own homemade lasagna. I made the sauce; I even made the noodles. The moment when I saw my cooking on the table, all put together and beautiful, I knew that I found a new passion.
It was around this time that I got back into contact with Bennett. He called me, asking if I was okay, reassuring me, telling me he was always there for me. He came to the viewing for my mom, and that was where he met Caroline for the first time. He had known about her in high school, but he really didn’t meet her until that day.
I remember sitting at my mom’s closed casket, watching the two of them. The way that she was so shy with him. She asked me if I minded if she left with him, to get a drink. I said I didn’t mind, that it would be good for me to get a little time to think.
I think the moment I remember most about that day was the feeling I got when I saw the two of them leave together. I felt my heart break in two. Tears wouldn’t even come; I had cried them all out at the viewing. I just closed my eyes and smiled, wondering how God could be so cruel to bring all of these things to me at once.
I had prayed every night that their relationship would fail. It wasn’t cruelty, I just couldn’t handle it. I was so sad all the time, and I had to constantly pretend that I was happy for them. But of course God wasn’t watching me. Or so I felt. I left religion for a while, and I even decided to enroll myself in culinary school. I hoped it would help me. And it did, for a while. I graduated with flying colors, and even got a job in a local restaurant. Things were actually looking up for me when I got the position of head cook at the restaurant.
However, this joy soon died when two weeks later I found out that Caroline and Bennett were engaged. She told me, and the little piece of me that had been hoping for a breakup died. I pasted a smile, laughed when she told me how nervous he had been proposing to her, and took a suitable time admiring her ring. But when I got home, I cried for three hours. I wondered how I could go on, knowing that the only guy I had ever loved, loved someone else.
And now I was here, at their wedding. Wondering how I was supposed to keep this act up the entire night.
I wiped the tears that had snuck their way out of my eyes and onto my face, and I sniffed. I knew I probably looked a wreck, but I tried to make myself as presentable as possible before going in to check on Caroline. When I walked into the room where she was getting dressed, she turned around and smiled.
“I was wondering where you were!” she said.
I just smiled. “I’m here now, that’s what matters.” I said quietly. She smiled, and I took in how beautiful she looked. She really was gorgeous. She had always been the prettier one. The one people noticed first. I was just plain. I had pretty looks, but nothing compared to Caroline. And today she looked more beautiful than ever. And more than that, she looked happy. Genuinely happy.
And it was in this moment that I realized I would have to suck up my feelings. For her. I could never take Bennett away from her. I had been given my chance with him, and I blew it. To take him now would be cruel and unfair. So I smiled too, trying to channel all of her happiness.
The ceremony was beautiful. They had written their own vows, and it hurt to hear them, but only a little.
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