I didn't think it was arranged, my marriage. I thought I had found him. I presumed he had fallen for me. I was not given enough time for fall for him. But I was certain that I would. So I got married. That is when I realized it was arranged. Right when I had fallen in love with him, I realized that this was an arranged marriage in so many more ways than a love marriage.
I have never been in love. Not with someone out of my family. That fierceness you feel when you love your younger sister, I did not think I would feel that way with anyone. And here I was reduced to this whimpering sobbing person because I suddenly felt that he was not around me anymore. I used to pride myself for the independence I had sought after. I did not want to turn into my Mum who widowed at 34 with two young kids had to suddenly learn how to deal with the world. So I grew up taking noone's help, I raised my little sister in the same fashion with a strong sense of self. And here I was, 10 day old bride wondering why my husband didn't want me, questioning every single thing about myself. Trying to change and figure out a way to impress him, in any possible manner. There was almost a madness to it. A small psychosis attached to my actions. I was afraid he didn't love me. I didn't realize it was an arranged marriage.
I can't help it still though. I want him to want me. I want him to bring flowers at least for our 1 month anniversary. I want him to drive an extra 30 mins to want to be with me. I want him to say he loves me or even likes me or at least cares for me. I guess I have been starving for affection. Any kind of affection. I want him to hold me as if he feels like the luckiest man there was to have met me or to have gotten me. Say at least one of those things he said to me before the wedding. I want him to do this so that I don't feel this needy about him.
There was that night. I had 2 beers and about 2-3 glasses of some whiskey when he first introduced me to his friends. I had never drunk like that. I didn't even realize that I was that comfortable with him that I completely let myself go. Something I couldn't do, not once in my whole life. I let go with him. I couldn't keep my hands off him. He took me to his place. And was terrified I suppose or nervous at least. Said something about never mentioning this to his mother. I was upset, he could see. I said I would crash in the couch but he said no, took me to bed, tucked me in, got me water. Did not touch me. The next day, I had the biggest hangover yet. He just took care of me. without saying one thing. I miss that side of him.
There was that night when we went to bed with no clothes on. ibbandiga unte cheppu. he said while kissing my breasts. I haven't seen that guy again.
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