A fictional story from that pretty, red book.
Friday, October 7, 2011 @ 8:51 AM
| 0 notes
---
I stood there by the cathedral's big doors. Taking a deep breath as that familiar feeling embraced me again. It felt weird, coming to the church on a "normal day".
I looked at the long aisle in the middle and imagined you standing at the altar. In my mind, you were wearing that dark blue suit that you always wore during special occasions. You called it your "lucky" suit and you refused to buy a new one despite the fact that it was getting snug on some places.
Was this cathedral always this big? Because I swear, the last time that we were both here, the place seemed so small. I never liked crowds but you always weaved through them coolly. You would always do anything to attend Sunday mass, even if you're tired from work. I would always rant quietly and tell you that there's a smaller chapel nearby but you always insisted on going to this big cathedral. But then once the mass starts, I'll become quiet and smile secretly. You are... an angel-- most of the time.
I looked at the altar again. Images are still flashing through my mind. But at this rate, I should just ignore them. It gets me too excited. I don't want to get my hopes up.
I felt my chest tighten as I walked in the middle of the aisle. The cathedral was empty and all I had to do was visit the office on the right side of that beautiful altar.
What would it be like to get married in this beautiful church?
Will I cry because I'm happy that I'm finally getting married after more than twenty years of waiting?
Or will I cry because you look so handsome in your suit that I'll barely recognize you?
To be quite honest, I will never be sure. You never talked about things openly. You hid behind your cryptic words and sometimes, you tend to lie to me about your true feelings. It's like you let me in, but you won't even let me touch anything. I never bothered to pry, in fear of losing you.
By the time I reached the end of the altar, I was already on the verge of tears; but I was still holding them in. It would not be wise to talk to the bishop while I'm crying. I don't want the old man to be worried.
I sat outside the waiting benches in front of the main office. There were a couple of people waiting there. Probably some who are there to get the cathedral reserved for baptisms, thanksgiving masses-- or maybe even marriages. There was a young woman sitting beside me. She looked so beautiful and so happy. An envelope was on her lap and she had a faint smile on her face as she carefully skimmed through the documents inside. I guessed that she was getting married as evident on the beautiful ring on her finger.
"Hi! Are you here to reserve the church for your wedding, too?"
"Congratulations." I replied with a smile. "He is a very lucky guy."
"Ah, don't say that. So, are you getting married, too?"
I remembered that image of you standing at the end of the altar and felt my chest tighten again. I had a hard time shaking my head.
"Then what are you here for? Ah, I know! You're gonna have your child baptized here?" she asked again.
I thought it was time to answer truthfully. She might pry further if I don't say anything.
"I'm here to reserve a date for my fiance's requiem mass." I said quietly. I expected tears to start flowing out but the wind started blowing, and I felt a familiar warmth around me.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
She didn't sound sorry at all. She actually sounded as if I insulted her and ruined her happiness. But I didn't care.
The first time we said hello, it was at this cathedral. I'd have to make sure that for our final goodbye, it'll be at a place that's memorable for you.
The image of you in that old suit appeared again. This time, not at the end of the altar, but inside that intricately-designed mahogany casket who's price would've made you mad if you were still here.
I tried so hard to picture you again by the altar.
This is the only time that I wished I could marry and live inside a memory instead.
---
FIN.
Labels: writing
A fictional story from that pretty, red book.
Friday, October 7, 2011 @ 8:51 AM
| 0 notes
---
I stood there by the cathedral's big doors. Taking a deep breath as that familiar feeling embraced me again. It felt weird, coming to the church on a "normal day".
I looked at the long aisle in the middle and imagined you standing at the altar. In my mind, you were wearing that dark blue suit that you always wore during special occasions. You called it your "lucky" suit and you refused to buy a new one despite the fact that it was getting snug on some places.
Was this cathedral always this big? Because I swear, the last time that we were both here, the place seemed so small. I never liked crowds but you always weaved through them coolly. You would always do anything to attend Sunday mass, even if you're tired from work. I would always rant quietly and tell you that there's a smaller chapel nearby but you always insisted on going to this big cathedral. But then once the mass starts, I'll become quiet and smile secretly. You are... an angel-- most of the time.
I looked at the altar again. Images are still flashing through my mind. But at this rate, I should just ignore them. It gets me too excited. I don't want to get my hopes up.
I felt my chest tighten as I walked in the middle of the aisle. The cathedral was empty and all I had to do was visit the office on the right side of that beautiful altar.
What would it be like to get married in this beautiful church?
Will I cry because I'm happy that I'm finally getting married after more than twenty years of waiting?
Or will I cry because you look so handsome in your suit that I'll barely recognize you?
To be quite honest, I will never be sure. You never talked about things openly. You hid behind your cryptic words and sometimes, you tend to lie to me about your true feelings. It's like you let me in, but you won't even let me touch anything. I never bothered to pry, in fear of losing you.
By the time I reached the end of the altar, I was already on the verge of tears; but I was still holding them in. It would not be wise to talk to the bishop while I'm crying. I don't want the old man to be worried.
I sat outside the waiting benches in front of the main office. There were a couple of people waiting there. Probably some who are there to get the cathedral reserved for baptisms, thanksgiving masses-- or maybe even marriages. There was a young woman sitting beside me. She looked so beautiful and so happy. An envelope was on her lap and she had a faint smile on her face as she carefully skimmed through the documents inside. I guessed that she was getting married as evident on the beautiful ring on her finger.
"Hi! Are you here to reserve the church for your wedding, too?"
"Congratulations." I replied with a smile. "He is a very lucky guy."
"Ah, don't say that. So, are you getting married, too?"
I remembered that image of you standing at the end of the altar and felt my chest tighten again. I had a hard time shaking my head.
"Then what are you here for? Ah, I know! You're gonna have your child baptized here?" she asked again.
I thought it was time to answer truthfully. She might pry further if I don't say anything.
"I'm here to reserve a date for my fiance's requiem mass." I said quietly. I expected tears to start flowing out but the wind started blowing, and I felt a familiar warmth around me.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
She didn't sound sorry at all. She actually sounded as if I insulted her and ruined her happiness. But I didn't care.
The first time we said hello, it was at this cathedral. I'd have to make sure that for our final goodbye, it'll be at a place that's memorable for you.
The image of you in that old suit appeared again. This time, not at the end of the altar, but inside that intricately-designed mahogany casket who's price would've made you mad if you were still here.
I tried so hard to picture you again by the altar.
This is the only time that I wished I could marry and live inside a memory instead.
---
FIN.
Labels: writing
