The Birthday Girl

The newly-opened champagne glides down my throat, leaving a cold trail of carbonation as it travels down to the esophagus. An eruption of applause echoes through the arched ceilings of the event room. The chandelier, blinding my eyes for a brief second with a shard of light, glistens in the castle-like atmosphere. As my pupils begin to focus once more, my vision clears to see a sign with the words “Happy Birthday!” written in an elegant cursive font.

 The real glimmering star of the night stood at the front of the room, greeting each guest with a bright smile and a warm hug. The burgundy velvet material on her bodycon dress clung to her hourglass figure like a tailored glove, and her brunette hair rested on her shoulders in perfect waves. The glow from the chandelier was pale in comparison to the birthday girl’s radiance. 

My eyes pan down to my feet, tapping along to the fast tempo of the drumbeat of a generic dance-pop song playing in the background. My newly broken-in dress shoes matched the charcoal-tones of the dress pants with the hem landing perfectly at my ankle. My fidgeting fingers struggled to button and unbutton the sleeves of my freshly-ironed navy shirt, shaking as adrenaline coursed through my forearm into my sweaty palms. As I finished checking on my outfit, a weight suddenly fell on my shoulders. A pair of rough, yet sturdy, hands pat a piece of sleek, satin fabric onto my right shoulder blade. My head turns to see a familiar face, my father. His dark-mahogany eyes glance towards the shining figure and back at me as one of his eyes closes into a wink, his many days of laughter reappearing through his wrinkles around the corner of his eye. His lips shape the words you got this while the corners of his mouth lift slightly to form a smile. His tall, slim figure gets lost in the sea of people, filled with designer clothing and luxury accessories.

My head bops along to the beat of the music as I mingle across towards the side of the room, my unblemished suit jacket resting on my forearm. Once I reach the edges of the maple-stained dance floor, my hand searches through the pockets, fingertips touching every corner of the delicate texture on this hand-sewn article of clothing. The back of my hand slides across a worn-down leather pocket wallet, feeling the crevices formed from years of usage. I pull out the wallet, my pinky finger rubbing the branding on the backside, spelling out my full name. As I flip open the wallet, a photograph falls out, fluttering onto the ground like an autumn leaf falling off a birch tree. There she is, the most dazzling person I’ve ever met. Butterflies ripple through my chest down to my stomach as I reminisce over that day at the amusement park, our first date. The picture shows us on cloud nine, at the top of the world. The soft pastel sunset blended into the city skyline as we sat at the apex of the ferris wheel, smiling from ear to ear. Our eyes sparkled from pure joy, with hearts full of love and emotion. That feeling of euphoria has not dissipated ever since I met her, everytime I see her shining face I feel my body float off the ground. My hands shake with excitement as I glide open the zipper on the wallet to reveal the ring. The air in my lungs blows away, leaving me breathless as I lift it up to eye-level. My mother’s ring, shimmering under the light from the chandelier, glistens almost as vividly as she does. The dainty, simplistic ring incorporates an intricate design of diamonds while maintaining a characteristic of classic beauty. My callous-covered fingertips gently place the ring into a velvet, burgundy box that matches her dress almost perfectly. The satin fabric smoothly rubs on my hand as I slip the ring box into my jacket pocket. 

My eyelids shut as a breath of air fills my lungs in an attempt to calm my nervous excitement. Placing one foot in front of the other, I dance my way through the mass of guests and party-goers. The closer I get to the twinkling star of the room, the more I feel as if I’m floating down a stream, being swept away by the current. Our eyes lock, and her smile immediately widens while she makes her way through the crowd, her body landing in my arms as I fall back in love all over again. The familiar sense of butterflies returns, but this time accompanied with a sense of hopeful anticipation. My heartbeat skyrockets as the fluttering feeling in my chest returns with newfound fervor. Intertwining her gentle fingers with mine, I pull her aside and lead her away from the party and towards an empty hallway. Exiting the party room, we enter into the entrance where the gold-accented winding staircase flows into the marble-stone floor with an ancient tapestry rug resting on top. The long-awaited moment has come.

My clammy hands clasp onto her smooth, manicured fingertips as words spill out of my mouth. I had planned a small speech but it completely faded away the second I saw her dazzling beauty standing in front of the grand staircase. All my feelings and emotions flood out of me like a dam that broke open. 

“For the past few days I’ve been reminiscing about our time together, falling into an almost dreamlike trance of disbelief, stuck wondering about how I got so lucky. In every remnant of the moments I spent with you I felt genuine emotion; indescribable bursts of happiness, my fleeting emotions, and my fluttering heartbeat, pieces of me finding refuge in each of our conversations,” I say as tears form at the corners of my eyes. “To me you were the light at the end of the tunnel, promising a brighter future. To me you were the sun to my flowers, helping me grow out of my emotionless shell. To me you were the vivid sunrise that brought a better day. To me you were the gentle sunset promising a better tomorrow. To me you were the bright moon that I see on sleepless nights. I want you more than the beauty of the entire world because without you, it's all meaningless. Will you marry me?”

She stands there in disbelief. Her hand covers her mouth. Tears well up in her eyes. I look up at her, brimming with hope and optimism mixed with a grain of fear. Choking back tears, she slowly shakes her head. I extend my legs to stand up but she stops me by lightly placing her hand on my shoulder. Her gentle touch feels different this time around. Taking a deep breath, she calmly says, “I’m sorry but I can’t.”

 Before I have a chance to say or do anything, she sprints down the hallway and out the door into the crisp, night air. I feel my knees buckle as I collapse onto the ground, trembling from being overwhelmed by emotion. My body numbs and my mood transitions from floating across the world to drowning in the bottom of the ocean. My mind races at the speed of light as I go through all the possibilities of why she, the love of my life, ran away. As I try to make sense of the situation, the only words that come to mind are, “Well, that was dramatic.”