You breathe a slow steady breath through your nostrils, as the rabbi turns his head to Lucas, and asks the most explicable question.
"Lucas Douglas, do Du take this woman to be your wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to Liebe her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as Du both shall live?"
He beams a bright, loving smile at you.
"I do."
Du lose your focus, falling into the apparent colour difference of his eyes from the mere bright stained glass of the church. And, they remind Du of why you're questioning this. There was nothing behind them. No fascination, curiousity, excitement, intelligence, oder fierce desire.
The rabbi gives a questioning glance at you, then continues.
"Lisa Cuddy, do Du take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to Liebe him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as Du both shall live?"
Your eyes dart from pew to pew, searching for him. Wilson sits there, focused and compelled. He gives Du a sorrowful smile, watching Du stare blankly at the empty Weltraum beside him.
"Ms. Cuddy?"
The rabbi questions, slowly. Lucas gently rubs your bare arm, taking your assiduity from the empty seat.
"I...-"
People begin to scoot up in the pews, making squeaky sounds come from the hard wood. Shiny and mooth pieces of your hair sway down across your forehead, as Du bend your head for a moment toward the red carpet floor. Teeth begin to bite the inside of your dry mouth, when Du look back up.
"I can't...-"
His once gleaming smile, begins to turn into a desolate frown.
Du contine, shakily.
"I can't marry... you, Lucas."
The guests begin to turn their heads to one another, already gossiping; He gives a knowing look, and nods, clenching and unclenching his jaws back and forth.
"Here...."
Du say; handing him the bouquet of white calla lilies.
Everyone stares at you. Watching Du walk down the isle with no one on your arm, to the far right corner of the 4th row pew.
"Where is he?"
Du ask Wilson, lip syncing.
"Apartment."
He Antwort you, barely audible to hear.
You're not exactly sane at the moment, you've come to realise. Speeding down a two lane road, isn't what Du call insane, but the reason why you're doing it might be. He was going to be there, he wasn't going out of town, oder leaving and never coming back. Yet, here Du were, driving moronically.
The chill of the wind sweeps under your forever long gown. Causing cold gans bumps to introduce themselves to the nervous gans bumps Du had already had. Du enter the hall outside the loft, the loft Du had intended on buying. One hard inhale of air and your knuckles met themselves with the hard white two double doors, knocking loudly.
Two Minuten went by, and no answer oder grunt of any remoteable sort. So, like any other logical person, Du assume he's not home, oder just doesn't care enough to answer.
A click echoes.
And, he stares at you. A speculative spark in his eyes.
"I didn't get married to Lucas...."
Du let it slowly roll off the tip of your tongue.
His mouth opens slightly, yet no words even muttering out to the surface.
Your bottom lip instinctively pushes out, then draws back in, preparing for what to say.
"I'm in Liebe with you."
He gives a small, joyful smile. A smile that could speak louder and mean Mehr than any word Du could ever hear.
"You don't deserve to wear white."
He picks, teasingly.
Slowly and easily, he pulls the Gold long handle all the way back, expanding the door, and opening Du into his life.
"Lucas Douglas, do Du take this woman to be your wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to Liebe her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as Du both shall live?"
He beams a bright, loving smile at you.
"I do."
Du lose your focus, falling into the apparent colour difference of his eyes from the mere bright stained glass of the church. And, they remind Du of why you're questioning this. There was nothing behind them. No fascination, curiousity, excitement, intelligence, oder fierce desire.
The rabbi gives a questioning glance at you, then continues.
"Lisa Cuddy, do Du take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to Liebe him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as Du both shall live?"
Your eyes dart from pew to pew, searching for him. Wilson sits there, focused and compelled. He gives Du a sorrowful smile, watching Du stare blankly at the empty Weltraum beside him.
"Ms. Cuddy?"
The rabbi questions, slowly. Lucas gently rubs your bare arm, taking your assiduity from the empty seat.
"I...-"
People begin to scoot up in the pews, making squeaky sounds come from the hard wood. Shiny and mooth pieces of your hair sway down across your forehead, as Du bend your head for a moment toward the red carpet floor. Teeth begin to bite the inside of your dry mouth, when Du look back up.
"I can't...-"
His once gleaming smile, begins to turn into a desolate frown.
Du contine, shakily.
"I can't marry... you, Lucas."
The guests begin to turn their heads to one another, already gossiping; He gives a knowing look, and nods, clenching and unclenching his jaws back and forth.
"Here...."
Du say; handing him the bouquet of white calla lilies.
Everyone stares at you. Watching Du walk down the isle with no one on your arm, to the far right corner of the 4th row pew.
"Where is he?"
Du ask Wilson, lip syncing.
"Apartment."
He Antwort you, barely audible to hear.
You're not exactly sane at the moment, you've come to realise. Speeding down a two lane road, isn't what Du call insane, but the reason why you're doing it might be. He was going to be there, he wasn't going out of town, oder leaving and never coming back. Yet, here Du were, driving moronically.
The chill of the wind sweeps under your forever long gown. Causing cold gans bumps to introduce themselves to the nervous gans bumps Du had already had. Du enter the hall outside the loft, the loft Du had intended on buying. One hard inhale of air and your knuckles met themselves with the hard white two double doors, knocking loudly.
Two Minuten went by, and no answer oder grunt of any remoteable sort. So, like any other logical person, Du assume he's not home, oder just doesn't care enough to answer.
A click echoes.
And, he stares at you. A speculative spark in his eyes.
"I didn't get married to Lucas...."
Du let it slowly roll off the tip of your tongue.
His mouth opens slightly, yet no words even muttering out to the surface.
Your bottom lip instinctively pushes out, then draws back in, preparing for what to say.
"I'm in Liebe with you."
He gives a small, joyful smile. A smile that could speak louder and mean Mehr than any word Du could ever hear.
"You don't deserve to wear white."
He picks, teasingly.
Slowly and easily, he pulls the Gold long handle all the way back, expanding the door, and opening Du into his life.
When does Liebe become something we need, rather than something we want? Liebe was seen as something special a long time ago. Now Liebe is what we are expected to have with us everyday of our lives. Liebe is common currency when Du are a teenager, but turns to worthless pennies the older Du get. Do we not care about the substance of what Liebe was and not what it has been made into today Von commercialisation from American Filme and Fernsehen commercials and soap operas? Only when we experience Liebe for real, can we Kommentar and judge others who are in Love. Liebe means something different to everyone. Not two people’s feeling of Liebe is the same. Why do we generalize, rationalize and compartmentalize Love? Liebe is and will continue to be an enigma. Only a handful of people will ever unlock it and witness its true beauty and essence. The essence we all crave.
Love.
Love.