I sat there looking at the sea. The night was perfect. The waves washing my feet, the lone yacht sailing in the distance, the little kids playing on the beach, a big family laughing and chasing each other around, the sparks from the buttawallah’s stall, and the guy who adored me sat next to me. Just perfect. It was almost like he was always looking for the smallest excuse to make me feel special. Did I feel special? Well, I was flattered. I told myself that I was acting juvenile.
But my mind kept wandering back to my prince.
When I was younger, I had a recurring dream about this prince, a knight in his shining amour, who would sweep me off my feet. One day, when I was least expecting him, he did come by, and I was swept off my feet. Every time he touched me, my stomach did a little somersault. He looked at me in my eye and I couldn’t hold his gaze. When he smiled at me, I fell in love with him, all over again. I was in love. Nothing seemed to matter when I was in his arms. It was almost sinful to be that happy. But then again, we didn’t live happily ever after.
The memories of the best years of my life faded into a dream! Almost a nightmare.
I felt a hand on my shoulders. I looked up and his eyes were shining, almost smiling, like he was hugging onto a dear secret. I snuggled into his arms. They were not magical, but they gave me solace, made me feel protected and most of all, made me feel wanted. Maybe I was acting juvenile.
He held my hand and whispered into my ears, “Will you marry me?” For one fleeting moment, I thought of my prince, and then I looked up and said “I will.” The yacht was sailing further into the horizon.