1001 days. 24024 hours. 1441440 minutes. 2 years and 7 months since we started dating. And as of this minute, 72 hours since we got married.
It was magical, wasn’t it? It was like a dream. I was paranoid the whole time that it was going to rain. Like how paranoid you got when I told you I needed to go on a business trip with my boss. I remember how wide your eyes got when you held me in your shaking hands, asking me if I was lying. I didn’t realise how tight you were holding on to me until you let me go.
The caterer almost didn’t make it in time for the reception, and I was worried about our guests starving. You told me the worst-case scenario is they’ll just be uncomfortable for a little while, but I know how time stops when you’re hungry. It was lunchtime, after all. Like the time you arrived late to our date and made us miss the seafood buffet that I was dying to try the entire week. You sent me a whole list of buffet restaurants that were still open while you huffed and walked away from me. I didn’t realise how loud you were being until I saw curious looks from the restaurant staff.
The serving manager came and told my maid-of-honour that an extra guest came and they might not have enough for that table. She left with the manager to solve the issue, and I was trying hard to think who would crash the wedding. Why would anyone crash the wedding? Who was trying to ruin our special day? Some might say the emotion I was exhibiting was suspicion, like the time I saw you on the sitting skin to skin on the sofa with your best female friend. You told me I was overthinking, and you were only sitting like that because the seat was too small. I didn’t realise exactly how ridiculous you sounded until I heard your friends giggling in the kitchen.
“Look who’s here!” my maid-of-honour squealed as she came into the room with the last person I thought I would see. He walked into the room with a beaming ear-to-ear smile; his arms were wide open with a small bag at his hand. I can’t believe my cousin, whom I haven’t seen in years, flew back just for my wedding. I was overwhelmed with emotions and ran over to give him a big hug. Before I had a chance to ask him anything, you yanked me away and asked for an introduction. I didn’t realise how red your face had gotten until someone asked if you wanted to take off your blazer because you looked like you were about to get a heat stroke.
The guests slowly filled up the wedding venue. Many whispers were exchanged, and the occasional gasps and giggles could be heard. I assumed they were just in awe of how stunning everything was. It really did seem magical. Now looking back, they were probably talking about something else. Laughing at my choices, my decisions.
The violin melody flooded the room as I slowly walked towards you in the wedding gown you chose for me. I looked into your eyes and remembered all the nice things you did for me. The flowers you would get me, the random kisses in the kitchen, the many surprise getaway you would bring me on. I remember all the sweet things you told me, how I make you laugh, make you feel loved, and how I was the only girl perfect for you. You said that sometimes you feel like you love me to the exclusion of everything, and I always thought that was the sweetest thing you have ever said. I looked into your eyes and remembered all the loving moments of our relationship. All the late-night conversations we had. All the promises you made to me when we first got together.
1001 days ago, you promised to be the best boyfriend I would ever have.
1001 days ago, you promised that I could be myself around you.
1001 days ago, you promised that you would keep me safe and protected.
And I believed you. I just didn’t realise that this was when your promises ended.
1001 days later, I took your name, and we promised to live out the rest of our lives together.
1002 days later, my eyes were coloured black and purple, and my skin turned red.
1003 days later, questions swirled in my mind. Many realisations were had.
1004 days later, you became my worst nightmare.
© 2021 Alison Lian