Taking From Life One to Life Two
Being aware of the 'vibes' , a week before the wedding I moved in with my in-laws.
I needed to be part of their world. but also to get away from my sister. My move to the house of my Intended took her by surprise. Whatever plot she had to ruin or prevent my marriage, collapsed.
It was fabulous to be at that magnificent house, sharing a room with his wonderful sister, (who would be my Maid of Honor) and easily fitting in to their world.
My Intended would live with his uncle before the ceremony so that my integration was based on my presentation.
It was not difficult.
I could adjust to their schedule, for there was nothing beyond my University courses which mattered to me.
Think of it, no television programs I wanted to watch, no places I wanted to go, no opinions on any topic beyond my dinner plate I needed to express.
The love that poured from his parents could drown me, and I would happily drown.
The wedding flowed as planned. It was perfect, everyone so happy.
I had never felt such an explosion of joy. My joy was because I had made the right decisions. I had put myself first and chose the best and safest corner.
Everyone loved this me I portrayed.
It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. My pattern was to behave as if surrounded by people whose language I didn't speak. I did not pick and define their words and opinions. I went on smiles, gifts, matching myself to their grid. Being who they imagined I was.
After the ceremony, the banquet, the rituals I'd have sneered at in Life One, my husband and I changed our clothes. Along with everyone who wanted to come we went to the pier to board the ship on which we'd have our honeymoon.
Everyone saw us off, and there was hugs and crying and best wishes.
When we reached our room we were exhausted. We fell on the bed in our clothes, plunged into sleep. We didn't wake until the ship far from shore.
The First Time
As we woke there was the first question, who got to use the bathroom first? He would be quick, he said running in as if about to explode.
When he came out, I went in, used the facility, then took a shower. I emerged, he went in while I dressed.
Together we went for a meal, walked the deck a bit, then back to the room. I went to use the bathroom. With the door closed I searched my sanitary napkin bag for the birth control pills I had hidden, took one.
When I emerged, he used the bathroom. Then we went to the bed. We lost our virginities at the same time.
At some later point in this marriage, I would have a child, I think, only one. One child who would be suffocated by all the attention from the family.
Of course, I didn't tell my husband I was using birth control or would only have one child.
The Love Words
We 'made love'. Yes, it was clumsy, slow, but I lay there as if I'd never had sex before. At least this body never had sex before.
After, we spoke, dressed, went out for another walk around the deck, another meal, then back to try again.
He was a nice man, not overly passionate, not rough. I could close my eyes and imagine what I would.
He spoke the love words and I returned them. It was not that I found him repulsive or undesirable, I didn't. But he was here to fill the box marked 'husband'. A husband who was acceptable to my family, to our society as I was acceptable.
There would be no arguments, no domestic violence, no isolation. My life would flow in a set pattern as it should.
We returned to the city, to his house, had a big dinner with our families. It was so new and different for me. I did not have to play act, for never before had I a family which seemed to love me. Never was I a part of a group that wasn't based on political issues.
I felt a child, and went with it. I was happy. It would be read as a bride's joy but was really just me, feeling loved for the first time in my life.
Me, just floating along, with everyone focused on me.
Focused on me not because I was in charge or had power or knowledge, but because I was the new wife, the new member of his family, the daughter who made her parents proud.
Maybe sometime in the future I would dream of my singular life on a tropical island in which I was the only being who mattered.
Maybe I would chaff at locking my soul into a small corner, being a mindless sheep.
But for now, for as long as now could last, I would drown in the love of family. For that is important.