“What’s the word? What’s the damn word?”
Although you could swear it is on the tip of your tongue, you’re standing, awkwardly silent, amidst the crowd; your speech suddenly interrupted by a blank spot just before its culmination. It’s not every day your best friend is marrying and it’s not every day you are invited to be the best man either, so how could a measly forgotten word stop your otherwise so heartfelt speech dead in its tracks? True, during the past few weeks you’ve been (on multiple occasions) reminded that a best man’s speech is one of the most important parts of a wedding; furthermore, you’ve been beseeched to jot down something, a couple of bullet points at least, just in case, not in any way attempting to insult your oratorical craft – but you decided to disregard all previous warnings, having absolute faith in your sharp mind and lingustic abilities that have gotten you (up until this moment) out of so much trouble. And your pride has ultimately led to your downfall. As if in an ancient tragedy, you’ve brought this unbearably awkward situation to your own self.
The pause gradually envelops the scene. You curl up the ends of your mouth into a smile, vaguely attempting to create some sort of tension – as if to say that everything is going according to plan and what is about to unfold will strike and inspire the unsuspecting audience; but horror engulfs you as you realize you do not even remember the beginning of the sentence, which, by the very least, could give you a hint about the missing word. You glance at your spectators, desperately trying not to seem helpless, while secretly hoping the looks on their faces could offer you a clue as to what you were talking about. Every last one of them is marvellously dressed, the men are wearing their best tuxedos, the women – their impervious dresses… wait, you are distracting yourself. It’s the faces you are supposed to look at, the faces… Alas, they are completely impenetrable. You feel as if a brick wall has been brought to life and forced to sit through this wedding. Well, apart from the newlyweds, who are smiling, of course, but you are not sure whether their smiles have been provoked by your speech or they would have been there no matter what you say. “Has anyone even listened to me?”, you ask yourself. No time to waste on silly questions. Instead, try to replay the beginning of your speech in your mind, this should point you in the right direction.
But everything you’ve uttered up to this point has disappeared into oblivion.
The seconds keep flowing by. Beads of sweat pierce your forehead. Your tie is suffocating you.
“What the hell am I even doing here? Who are these people?
Who am I?”
A minute ago, you could have sworn you are completely aware of the answer to that last question, but right now there is nothing you would dare place a bet on. It appears you have been given the role of a best man in some sort of performance and, as if in an actor’s nightmare, you do not have the slightest idea what your next lines should be. Unfortunately, there is nothing that could prove you even had a speech before. Or any sort of biography at all, for that matter. Then who really are you? Do you even exist? Or are you part of somebody’s fiction, a patched-up character, destined to always play the second fiddle, the best man to a handsome groom, the Robin to his Batman? Are you married, was there a speech by your best man at your wedding, have you ever had a family?
If at this moment you were to prove – in a fully convincing way – there were no aliens in their spaceships who threw you all out here, filling your heads with fake memories (maybe yours was the only one that didn’t succumb to this treacherous deed), you would fail miserably.
However, the guests – and the occasion – require a speech. But is that the true reason they are gathered here? Or is this whole charade a mere attempt to escape their everyday lives, driven by the desire to witness something extraordinary, a demonstration of love they have only seen in movies or read about in all these useless books? You yourself know very well such love does not happen that often in real life, no matter the number of weddings performed on a daily basis. Another thing you very well know is that many people choose to fool themselves, as believing they could at least witness a profound love story (if not take part in it) is better than having to endure the dullness of their mundane lives.
On the other hand, does your interrupted speech matter in any way? Is man not a master of his own destiny, could he not change its course completely in any given moment with some sort of a drastic decision? If he does not own his life, then who does?
The show must go on, as the singer used to say. The audience is here for drama and ecstasy, for something outshining everyday banalities.
And you have to please them.
You clear your throat and perturbingly explain you cannot resume your previous speech. The truth you have since so long suppressed aches to be let loose. And it is this truth that is keeping you from continuing with the lies. As truths go, it is a simple one, but, unfortunately, you must bring it to words – ever since you laid eyes on the bride for the first time, you’ve been desperately in love with the her.
The audience lets out a quiet gasp. The smile on the groom’s face appears eerily frozen.
At least now everybody is listening.
Yes, this is it, you continue, when the groom introduced you to her, the mischievous god of love suddenly slashed your knees, causing you to fall down on the pavement in awe. You later explained to the shocked couple that you felt sick – and apologized wholeheartedly for the embarrassing situation, but deep within you knew that this fall was the beginning of a tragic joke Eros decided to play upon you. A joke that has brought you to tears for so many days and sleepless nights; that has forced you, in the name of your age-long fellowship with the groom, to keep on pretending you feel nothing more than mere friendship for his (now ex-) fiancé. And even though your entire essence was convinced that what you felt for her is unmatched to anything you’ve ever felt before, your mouth had to remain shut, your words – unspoken, your heart – torn. A confession such as this would have ultimately led to you tearing the bond with the friend you have held most dear, but to add insult to injury, you would have been forbidden to see her on a day-to-day basis, and, woe you, you yourself could not say which of the two evils is the bigger one. But this is all you could stand; your back aches from that Procrustean bed you laid in for the past few years, while you witnessed their love grow stronger. And you realize now, that in this holy day, when your best friend and the love of his life vow to one another, you are to walk out of their lives forever, as you could not bear to stain their happiness, nor could you endure the pain of having your heart irremediably broken.
And, again, your speech comes to an abrupt halt, this time not by a misplaced word, but by lips kissing your lips, by hands, caressing your face; and your eyes fix upon (your jaw would drop in awe, was it not so busy) the bride first, who is tearfully kissing you; and then to the groom, inconsolably crying in the back. Some of the guests are holding on to their handkerchiefs and are quietly weeping, others have already broken down in tears. Suddenly, the (now ex-) groom races toward you, throwing his arms, and before you could take a defensive stance, he embraces you with such force that you feel your ribs cracking. He then publicly declares he would not be able to cause you any more pain. Had he only known of your feelings, it would have been different, as his own love is incomparable to yours, and if these feelings were to be reciprocated by the one, who – just seconds ago – was about to be his wife (and, judging by the kiss she has blessed you with, they obviously are), then he simply could not interfere in other people’s happiness. Afterwards he exits, stage left. His exit is followed by the entrance of a slightly drunk priest (having turned up on the feast as well, only God knows how and why), who staggeringly approaches the two of you, mumbling something under his breath and slightly hiccupping. He then proclaims every guest has just heard the voice of God, as God is no more than true, pure love – and this voice they have witnessed rendered the vows, given only an hour ago, completely useless, as the two people, who pretended to marry, did not truly love each other. So – he continues – there was no wedding, but a wedding is to happen. He places you near the bride and asks her to swear that she will always love you, in sickness and in death.
And, tears flowing from her eyes, she says “I do”.
The priest then looks at you. You can see his mouth moving, but the pounding in your ears prevents you from hearing any of the words he is saying – although you very well know what each and every one of them is. While you ponder how your mouth that has, up until now, never betrayed you, has suddenly gotten you into this much trouble, you hear yourself say “I do”.
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