My heart was broken. I had promised myself I would feel nothing in this whole situation, but I could feel my intestines clenching around my stomach and my lungs trashing against my heart. My father was refusing to let me go through with my wedding. The marriage that he had arranged. And even though I felt nothing for the man who had been my would-be husband for as long as a week, my heart was in pieces.

After being in an abusive relationship for six long years, better sense finally prevailed and I left him. He was my best friend, the only person who could control me when I was angry and direct me when I was lost. But he was also the only person who never valued me, the only person who hit me. The only person who forced me to believe that I could never be anything without him and his abuse. I had defied my parents to be with this man, and he had let me down every time. The whole process of breaking up with him left me unsettled and disillusioned in a lot of ways. I was no longer able to trust anyone. Worst of all, I was no longer able to trust my own thoughts, actions or decisions.

After a couple of years, I agreed to go ahead with the so-called ‘Modern Arranged Marriage’. I was set up to meet people who were pre-approved by my parents. I didn’t trust my own judgement any more. But I trusted theirs. I really just wanted them to tell me whom to marry. But that doesn’t happen. So, I kept meeting people waiting for something somewhere to ‘click’. Finally, I ended up liking someone who also liked me back.

Why did I go ahead with this when I was so indifferent? I guess my reasons for wanting a marriage had changed from when I was younger. I suppose I wanted some form of companionship, and someone to have some children with; and it didn’t really matter to me any more whether I loved the man I married. Slowly and steadily, I had become the person I had tried to consciously avoid my whole life to become.

Anyway, so today, a week after the wedding was fixed, my father found out that the family had misrepresented something. I was upset too but not to the extent of calling off the wedding. My father, however, was livid. He wanted to stop the whole thing as soon as possible. Deep down, I thought it must be the right thing to do, because I did trust my father more than I did myself. But, on the surface, it felt like a hasty decision of a scorned old man. I decided to keep quiet and hold my peace. I decided to lock my emotions and feel nothing. But I had made the mistake of being happy in the past week. I had made the mistake of planning my outfits and checking out venues. But the greatest mistake I had made was to open up a little to the man I was about to marry. I had let my walls down and become his friend. Even though there was no love, it felt sad that I would no longer be marrying this man because my father, who apparently knows better than me how this world works, got pissed off.

I felt angry that even though I had let my father decide my fate, I had absolutely no say in my future any more. I wanted to call someone and share my thoughts.And the first person who came to my mind was my ex. I knew he was the only person who would know exactly how to console me in this situation. I cursed myself for thinking about him. That’s when I realised that my wedding getting called off had nothing to do with my broken heart and its thousand pieces.


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