You wish I was on your left. Well, maybe not me, but his eyes are brown and too big for his face and his hair curls just around his ears and the easy way he tugs at it when he’s nervous is perfectly synchronised with the way my own finger reaches out when my pulse quickens.
His smile reaches his eyes and they crinkle but your dimple isn’t even showing. You say it’s the foundation and that the cake is the wrong colour but I know it’s because I’m on your right and that’s not where I’m supposed to be. My shoulders are covered and my arms encased in the delicate green silk you picked out. I think it’s because you don’t want to be distracted. Am I distracting you with the life you could have led?
I was with you when you called and said you weren’t sure. I was there when you told me how the first time hurt. And I’m here now. I'm always on your side. For better or for worse, I’ve ended up on the right.
You’ve been waiting for this day but where’s your laughter? It reminds me of when you were afraid of your smile and when we had to chase you to make you laugh for you to forget the metal on your teeth. Are you embarrassed of him or are you scared of what knowing him is doing to you?
You go through the motions, your eyes are dull and he laughs with all his teeth and he’s a mirror of me and everyone we both know as well as our own limbs know it too. We’re just not saying it because you’ll scream. But I’m not afraid to be soft - where I curve he has unflinching lines.
His lips are thin and he licks instead of bites, they shine but they aren’t red. You told me this. I looked in the mirror in the hall and realised mine always looked ripe for the taking. You told me this last night when you finally let loose. When you begged me to kiss you to let you know what it felt like.
You laughed and said it’s bad luck when I saw you in your dress and I said that only works with a groom. Your smile fell. I thought we were just joking around. When I said your dress didn’t look like you you said well guess you don’t know me anymore. The first truthful thing you’d said all day.
All our friends are here. Your family is looking at me with distaste. It’s okay, I have others in my corner when you’re not backing me into one.
I catch the eye of the girl with sparkling eyes and shoes that tap out the beat of my favourite song. She winks grotesquely. She never got the hang of it. Her hair is neat. I barely see it like that, it means she’s scared and has pulled it out at least a million times. Her foot slows when I smile back. She raises her left hand in a tiny wave.
The ceremony is over. You’re sitting on your throne and you’re performing. You throw the bouquet, it has baby’s breath and the flowers we picked in the school ground.
The girl with the too-neat hair catches it. A thousand curls leave their prison. She yelps in delight,gathers me in her arms. Her ring glitters for all to see. I fear my face will break with the strength of my joy. She’ll be on my left for the rest of my life, the life I’ve carved out with sheer determination. You always knew I was braver than you, I’ve sacrificed so much for the sake of my happiness. I don’t blame you for not doing the same.
I pretend not to see your ghost of a smile drop. I don’t see you snatch your hand away from him. He’s your husband now and he’s looking at me like I don’t deserve to be alive. He won’t let you come for my wedding. God, I hate you for marrying someone I have to prove myself to. Your house is now unwelcome.
Our friends scream and I’m squeezed and surrounded by love. We dance and as we twirl and dip I pull out strands of her elaborate braid, one at a time. We all deserve to be free. I may be covered from head to toe but she’s looking at me like it’s our first night alone. She could eat me alive.
You glare, you frown. Your mood is as unpredictable as the weather. And I don’t care to fight anymore, I’ve chosen my peace. You made your choice long ago. I’m not responsible for yours.
You hate her for taking your place on my left, a place you never had, though you feel entitled. You hate her for giving me all I needed and hate me for giving her everything in return. The man on your left looks like me enough for your mother to joke but we all know that’s where it ends.
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