The Cathabella Diary | Novella

09.02.22 (I)

I woke up early this morning again. At five. Not that I had something to do or I couldn't sleep. I had a dream of Aly. Not only was it a dream; it was a play staged by my reminiscence.

It was me with her, back in the college. I could see her in her old red and pink volume dress which I had gifted her on her birthday. She also wore a woollen hat. It was the last night before the day of graduation and we had been arranged a farewell party. As I entered through the hall door, I saw her with Bethany, her best friend, with a glass of red wine in her hand and she was giggling with her other hand over her mouth.

For a moment it felt to me that time stopped around and we were caught at the moment – her eyes falling on mine – she smiling at me. I had the rose in the back pocket of my trousers and I had been checking on it now and then fearing it might fall off. I extended my hand at her as she joined me, holding her long skirt.

"Let's go to the terrace. I have a surprise for you", I muttered to her.

She smiled, looked around, giggled and asked me, "What is it, George? Why not here? I am enjoying the party. And I know you will too". She rested her hand on my chest. I was wearing my black tuxedo which I only wore on special occasions and I could feel the touch of her soft hands against it. I held her hand, held it tight and asked her again to accompany me. This time she agreed and asked me if it shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes. We had been in a relationship for a year then and we had never kissed each other. She ought to have thought I would take her to the terrace and kiss her. I could see the happiness and excitement in her eyes.

As we got to the roof, I guided her to our rendezvous point. The moon was a smooth crescent and it didn't take long for the moon to captivate her. She looked up and admired it and when she turned around, there I was – on my knees, with the rose in my hand.

"Alyssa Rose Thompson... Will you marry me?"

I was scared and nervous alike. I loved her a lot and I knew she loved me. But marriage is a word in itself – a promise, a bond. I was sure of loving her to death and never looking the other way around. Although I believed it was also the case with her and she was not like those girls who believe having a boy in your life is just for fun or looking cool, there was always the fear she would leave me after this. I had been trying to propose her for two months then. Not trying, but planning. I hung my head and closed my eyes.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?!", she shouted aloud. I knew it was to come. I was prepared for that. But it wasn't the shout of anger. It was the sound of joy and surprise. From the absolute darkness under my legs, my gaze lifted to her moonlit face. She was smiling. No, she was laughing.

I got up, put the rose in her hands, and held her face in my palms. Now I could see she was crying. The warm tears of her eyes were flowing down her cheeks onto my palms. She kissed my hand. I was crying too. "Have you lost your mind?", she asked me again. Now she was weeping.

'What makes you ask so, babe?"

"I—I just... I don't know, George. I thought... I thought..."

"You thought what, babe?"

"I thought you would never marry me. I thought we will get split just like John and Bethany did. I thought we would never be together... I—".

"You say no further, Aly. You know I'm not John. I'm George. Your... Your Georgie!"

"Are you sure?"

"Look, I am not here to hang around all right. The terrace wasn't open and I had to bribe my way—". Before I could say anything, she laughed and kissed me on my mouth. And that was perhaps the longest kiss I ever had. Not perhaps by time but by love.