Gerkerea Hodges

Remember that one time when...

So... we all can recall that one time when we’ve done something stupid. Totally put our entire foot in deep into the back of our mouth until the tip of our toe nails scraped the surface of our tonsils and the pain was shocking right? Well not literally but you get my drift. I found myself sitting on the edge of the bed, making side notes of my reasons for concern and thinking of ways to deliver the message, “ I don’t think I want to do this anymore.” It was painful to think about and in an ungodly way, my nerves were all over the place and my anxiety was rising. Suddenly, the feeling of guilt rushed in and I start to feel extreme disappointment in myself. Past conversations with friends resurface in my mind and I start to remember all the times that I was called selfish and inconsiderate. I remember being told that I’m a horrible friend, unreliable, untrustworthy. And now here I am again, preparing myself to be the bearer of bad news. “I don’t think I want to do this anymore”. See the thing is, I didn’t want to do this in the first place. I had already thought through the consequences and the emotional distress it would put me in and I didn’t want to do it. But the stress of letting him down, disappointing him, and completely embarrassing him seemed harder to bear than just simply going through with what I had already agreed to do. I had already said yes. I look out of my bedroom window to see my family arriving for the big day. I suppose it’s too late. My mouth begins to water as my breathing increases and I feel myself gasping for air. I close my eyes to regain control and I open them to find my mom standing there. She comes in the room and sit next to me on the bed, gently placing her hands inside of my hands and pulls me in closer for a hug. She looks in my eyes. The look of despair and uncertainty must have spread itself across my face because her excitement turned into concern. Her face started to look like mine. “Mom, remember that one time when you signed me up for piano lessons because I said that Bethoveen was cool.” “Yes” she replied. “And I went to all of the lessons and at the night of the recital, I told you that I was only doing it to make you happy and I only thought “Bethoveen” was a cool name” “yes, I remember honey,” she replied with a quick chuckle, now looking at me with compassion and understanding in her eyes. “ Or remember the time when Eliza asked me to pet sit for her when her mom got sick and I knew I couldn’t take care of her puppy but I agreed to it anyway and I ended up losing the puppy during our walk?” “Yes” she says. “ Mom this feels like one of those times. I put my foot in my mouth and I agreed to be something that I don’t want to be. I don’t want to commit the rest of my life to being held hostage by the vow to stay with one person through it all, no matter what. I don’t want the responsibility of loving one person as my other half. I want to love without boundaries, without limits, and without expectations. Without a role. Without a position. I don’t want to be married.” My mom looks at me with a sense of sadness. I could tell that she was looking forward to do this day more than I was. I had not thought about it before, but in that moment, I realized that I was not just letting my soon to be husband down, but I was letting her down too. “We can postpone everything and reschedule the arrangements. You’re just having cold feet. We can move everything back to a later date when you are feeling better. I’ll tell everyone that you’re sick and we can reschedule” She says. “Okay” I said, lowering my head into my chest. I was doing it again. Why is it so hard for me to say “No. Not now. Not ever!” Jeff’s a great guy. He’s sensitive and compassionate... romantic... successful. But I just... I can’t figure out why the thought of becoming his wife or anybody’s wife, scares the living daylights out of me. The responsibility of loving someone through sickness and health, for rich or poor, makes me feel trapped. I feel like I’m signing my life away and I just don’t think I want to do this anymore. He proposed to me during a family gathering at his grandmother Trisha house and it was beautiful. It was set up in the backyard. There was a choir singing sweet melodies with lights illuminating the walk way, rose petals covering the ground , family, food, and lots of love. He got down on one knee and popped the question, “Will you marry me?” With a gorgeous, diamond ring, he looked up at me with those big brown eyes. All eyes were on me as everyone waited for my answer. The ring was glistening in the candlelight, but all I could see was his face. His face was covered with hope that I would say yes, so I said it. It felt like the right thing to say in that moment surrounded by friends, family, music, and love. The outburst of joy from everyone around us overwhelmed us both and we celebrated that night. But as time went on, it became more and more agonizing and less exciting. Now here we are, the day of the wedding and I just... I don’t want to do this anymore. My mom tells the wedding party that I am ill and we’ll need to postpone the ceremony. I hear all of the guests downstairs asking my mom to relay messages of well wishes and then the door opens as all the family start to leave. I wipe my make up off and take the hair pins out of the bun in my hair. I feel more relieved already. Then I hear the door behind me open. It’s Jeff. I turn to see that it’s him but then I turn away because I can’t look him in his eyes. It’s time. It’s time to deliver the disappointment, hurt, and embarrassment. “ What’s wrong babe? Your mom said that you were sick. Are you alright?” He kneels down beside me, looking into my face for answers. The tears start to fall from my eyes. I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to disappoint him but here goes... “ I don’t want to do this anymore Jeff.” He looks at me in disbelief. I couldn’t look him in his face because I knew the pain would be too jarring and I needed to be strong. I needed to stand on this. It was already out of my mouth and directed to the man that I love and through the pain, I felt relief. Jeff is quiet. He looks at me for a second before dropping his head into his hands and he sits there for awhile. Silent. “I’m sor-“ before I could finish he stands up and jets out of the room. I couldn’t tell if he was crying or angry or both. Now the guilt is back. All the relief is gone and I feel horrible again. I feel disappointed in myself as I look in the mirror at a woman who has let others down many times, who has made promises and failed to keep them, and who has volunteered for the task but never completed it. As I start to bash myself, I remind myself that it’s better late than never. Oh how sorrowful it would have been to look at my future husband years from now and say “Remember that time when I vowed to love you through sickness and health, for richer or poorer? I didn’t mean it. I only did it to make you happy. I never wanted to be married.” The realization that this was what was best, brought me back into reality. It was hurtful. It was painful. And I feel bad. But ultimately, it was better for it to be now than later.