The Plus-one

The Plus-one.

His eyes were full of affection and anyone who had ever been lucky enough to have witnessed genuine love could tell that this man was so irrevocably and devotedly in love. And as I stood by his side, my arm in his, I thought about how it felt to be desired by him. Weddings will do that to you. When you’re at an event whose sole purpose is to celebrate love, its impossible not to be consumed by thoughts of the future - and mine was standing right next to me. I had only known him for a few months but what is time when you’re in love right? The hall filled with applause and cheer as the bride and groom entered, hand in hand, starting their brand new life together. The mothers were decidedly scanning the room for potential candidates that would do the same with their sons, the kids were scurrying around, fascinated by the extravagant flower arrangements and others were congratulating the happy couple, their wishes faintly laced with envy.

When they finally caught a break from all the greetings, the couple shot us an emergent ‘SOS’ stare and understanding immediately, we ran to them before any other guests could corner them with never-ending stories about childhood anecdotes. The bride threw her arms around me, thanking me for rescuing her, and told me how lucky I was to be dating her best friend, also warning me about how he weeps like a child while watching rom-coms. He had been friends with the bride since they were kids and a part of me used to initially feel threatened by how close they always had been, but here we were, joyously celebrating her marriage with me as his plus-one. So I chose to look past the jealousy and instead focus on how happy he made me with the simplest gestures. He playfully rolled his eyes and gave her a hug, after which we let them go back to their newly wedded bliss.

I used to hate attending weddings, partly because I spent most of the time running away from the questions that felt more like interrogations about ‘what my plan was’ but more than that I hated the irony of being so estranged and detached from love whilst being surrounded by the most profound declaration of it. But that was before I met him. He felt more like home than the walls within which I lived and everything suddenly fell into place. There had been a few before him but I was certain that there would be none after. He was the one. As I watched the now-married couple dance to their own rhythm, their movements perfectly complimenting each other's, I pictured myself with him at our own wedding someday, and one of my favourite songs started playing in my head. ‘If the whole was watching, I’d still dance with you’. I must have subconsciously started swaying to the music because he took my hand and led me to the dance floor.

He had been particularly quiet today but his eyes spoke louder than his words could have. He was watching the bride and groom dance together and for a second I wondered if he was picturing us too. His gaze diverted back to me and the light amber in his eyes had been mostly concealed by his pupils. One of the most beautiful phenomena about the human body is that when you look at an object of your desire, your pupils dilate to let in more light so you can see more of what you love. And his eyes were looking into mine. They were filled with warmth and admiration but somewhere behind, there was a hint of defeat. This might have normally been cause for concern but in that instant, I was too absorbed in my longing to let myself ruin the moment. 

The songs in the background cleverly transitioned from slow to upbeat and you could feel the atmosphere of the room uplift. The rest of the people gradually joined the floor and after a few songs that required a lot of jumping and movement, I decided I needed a break before my very expensive heels exhausted all tolerance. I joined the rest of the guests at the tables and watched the man I someday hoped to start a life with, as he danced around with his friends, his inner child peeking through. After a few more songs has passed, he came and sat next to me, out of breath and his skin glistening with sweat. As the last slow song of the night started playing, the lights dimmed, casting a romantic glow over the room. The bride and groom moved together to the flow of the music in perfect harmony, and everyone watched in awe, mesmerized by the love they so visibly shared.

My hand was interlocked with his and with every verse of the song, my grip tightened. He normally always adjusted his grip in response to mine, which made me feel safe and reassured so when he stayed stationary for the duration of the song, his hand laying motionless on mine, I turned my head to look at him and saw a familiar expression. It was a mix of love and affection, which would've been okay except there was also longing and grief. As if he were mourning the loss of something that he knew couldn't be his. I recognized the love in his eyes because I saw it in the mirror every day. In an effort to rid myself of any gut-wrenching realisations, I traced his glance to the centre of the hall. To the bride. 

 The next five seconds took forever to pass, yet were enough to make me question everything. The first second, I tried deluding myself away from the reality that was in front of me. The second I was paralyzed with disbelief. The third and fourth seconds I spent drowning in the awareness of my oblivion. And in the fifth second, I looked at the man that I was in love with and saw a complete stranger. I had fallen so hard for him that I forgot to get back up and see that the love in his eyes that I had once proudly claimed ownership of, wasn’t for me. You always read about the heartbreak that accompanies unrequited love but seeing mine mourning his was worse than any story may have perceived the pain to be. He might have loved me but it wasn't me who made his pupils dilate or who he pictured himself slow dancing with, and it definitely wasn't me he was in love with. I was too busy being completely smitten with him and our future to take into account his past and the people that came with it. I may have been his plus-one but I had always been second to her.