“Heads, we get married; tails, we break up.”
I watched her face intently, as it is often with women; it was hard to read the intention behind the twinkle of amusement in her eye.
Whilst I watch her face, let me explain to you why I am currently on the verge of marrying or breaking up with a woman I have known for three weeks and 4 days.
The leaves fell, in different colours, a beautiful autumn- no. No, we shall not assume the conventional state of every romance novel in existence; I am a man. Men are masculine, now as I was saying, I walked along the cobbled stones of the streets feeling a serenity envelope me. Rome really became me, I had developed a glow. Much like a pregna- no. Again, I am a man.
I’ll begin with when I saw her for the very first time I had only been there for two days, the constant pain that had seized my heart after divorcing a woman I no longer recognised, disappeared for a few very precious seconds. I ceased to breathe, my heart ceased to beat. I was afraid movement would scare away the radiant woman I saw before me. Yes, I revert to the clichéd understanding of ‘love at first sight’, but you must understand the emotion that overtook me was very much a thing of romance novels. She turned to me, looked me in the eye and smiled, then proceeded to laugh at something the cabbage seller had said. A jealous fury overtook me- okay, it didn’t. I was always a pacifist and it seems love shall not change me so drastically. At the risk of sounding a misogynistic male; I felt that she belonged to me and I to her.
Since then, I saw her continuously; I spent the length of my days with her. She lit up my being, I laughed like I had as a child. I became happier than I had felt in many years. The world held colour, brighter and fuller; had I been living in grey all these years? In the third week of my stay, she disappeared. I searched for her. I despaired. Life lost its colour and the grey was oppressive. My month stay was drawing to a close. When she came to my rented apartment, she looked tired yet smiling as always. Sat me down, explained her absence. My heart plummeted. I’d never felt such desolation as I had then, the dreadful grief that swallowed my being whole was inconsolable. She said ‘Always ready to be unhappy. Have I taught you nothing dear Christopher? To be happy is a gift. Come with me.’
Now, here we are, as she proposes to me in her odd little way and my heart swells with pride and love. All those days come back to me in a new light, the underlying exhaustion, the weight loss, and the obvious signs. I felt I had betrayed her, had I known sooner… Could this be happening to me? A man of 31, I had married young and then divorced not a year back. Here I was again, ready to hurt.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Oh, how you question everything Chris. Now hush, let the fates decide my love.”
“But-”
“Heads; we get married; tails, we break up.”
The finality of her tone was damning.