Marry Me!

Marry Me!

• Rating 5.0

Drama, Romance, Adult, Suicide

• by Author

She tossed and turned in her bed in a desperate attempt to make peace with sleep, but to no avail. Familiar depressing thoughts took hold of her, and her mindscreen started playing the last meeting she had with Alexander.

"How much more time do you need, Alexander?" She asked in a trembling voice. "You've known me for five years now, and you're still not sure?"

"It is not that, Angie," he sighed, taking a deep breath.

"Then what the fuck is it?! She hissed. "Why can't we marry?"

"Why do we have to marry?" What is marriage—just a mere formality? He shrugged nonchalantly.

"It is more than a formality. It is security. It is a commitment. It is a shared life with a common direction. Not living separate lives in separate homes. You know how much it means to me."

He shook his head and sighed. There was a long pause before he said, "What about work? Did you find something?"

"No, I am still looking around," she said with a tinge of exasperation.

"All this can be sorted out, babe. First, get your life in order." He tried to reason. "Did you visit the shrink?"

She glared. "I know I am a mess, but don't try to fucking patronize me. I once had work, you were still unsure about marriage then."

"I am only trying to help because I care. Twice, you have tried taking your own life. You need to be busy to remain sane." He bit his tongue as he said the last words.

Her eyes went blank as she stared past him. "Thanks for your concern. I have suicidal tendencies. It's in my genes. My mother has them, and my mother's father did too. Just because at times I don't love life, you think I am insane? Is that what you want to prove?"

He sighed and went quiet.

"Let me make this very simple for you, Alexander. Do you want me in your life?"

"It is not that simple, Angie. Life is not black and white."

"A simple Yes or No will do, Alexander." She chewed every word and said, "Just one fucking word, please."

He thought and said, "Yes."

"Do you want to marry me?"

He signed audibly and shifted in his chair. "Come on, now, babe. This is too much."

"Yes or No, Alexander?"

He looked far out in the distance; a ship was just disappearing over the horizon. "No. Not now." He spoke slowly, his voice dropping a bit.

"Okay. Fine," she said, slapping the table and withdrew back in her seat. "So, this is it, then. I can't do this anymore. Good luck."

He looked at her helplessly. "It doesn't have to be this or that, Angie.

"Please, Alexander. Don't try to convince me otherwise. We have been through this several times; this is my last reserve of strength to move on in life without you. You know what I want, and you know what to do." She got up as tears now trickled down her eyes. She kissed him on the cheek and said goodbye. "Be well, Alexander."

It had been almost two months since that conversation, and every day of these two months, she feverishly hoped that he would get in touch. But there was not a word from him. She glanced at the watch; it was way past midnight, and sleep was still nowhere in sight. She sighed in frustration and popped in two sleeping pills. The screen of her mobile flashed, and a little shiver of excitement coursed through her, but it was short-lived. It was a random guy she had come across on the dating app, asking her if she could meet tomorrow.

She picked up the phone and replied to the random guy, "Let's meet tomorrow for brunch." She suggested the venue, and the guy promptly agreed. 

She lay on the bed, pondering her life or the lack of it. She had few friends, but they only served the purpose of reminding her that she was in her mid-thirties and the need to get hitched and settle down before it got too late. Her mother was her only family, and she had been in an institution for a few years now because of some psychological disorder. She knew nothing of her father and had not heard from him since he deserted them for another woman.

And work—she once had work—questionable work. Since when did serving and pleasing customers become work, albeit at a higher altitude? The hair done in a perfect bun, the perfect fake smile, the well-fitted schoolgirl-like uniform. One fine day, all of it got to her, and she quit her job in the quest for something more meaningful. Six months had elapsed, and the quest now seemed like a hopeless cause. She had run out of money; there was only enough money to last another month. Eventually, the pills took effect and her fatigued brain gave in, and she fell asleep.

She had barely managed a few hours of sleep, and she was up and wide awake. She got out of bed and decided to go for a run. An hour later, she returned and made herself some coffee with toast and a banana. She picked up a trashy novel to kill time. Skipping the critical scenes, she read only the sexual bits. Thirty minutes before her meeting with the random guy, she jumped into the shower. She rested her head against the wall and hugged herself as the warm water draped her body. It was the most serene moment of her day.

Dressed in jeans and a white spaghetti top, she reached the restaurant. "Hi, I am glad we could meet." The random stranger said cheerfully. She smiled in response and took the chair. He asked the usual questions, and she answered them mechanically, filling the odd pauses with a practiced smile. She ordered a big meal and fresh juice. The conversation was the tricky part, especially when she had no interest except in the food. With experience, she had learned to ask the right questions and to keep the man engaged and engrossed. "Everyone fucking loves to talk about themselves," she thought to herself. Two hours later, she said goodbye to the random stranger and headed home.

Back home, she took a nap, and in the evening, she met another random stranger for coffee. All the strangers offered to pay, and she obliged. The night was no different; it was the same drill. The depression, the thoughts, the lack of sleep, the pills.

The next day, in the evening, she got a call from her real estate broker. "Your previous month's rent is due, and this month is half way through. Please pay by the end of this month, or you will have to vacate the premises."

She said, "Okay," and hung up. "Something is gotta give," she muttered to herself and pondered suicide. She had no one, and no one would miss her. Her life was less than ordinary. She took a deep breath and got her bottle of sleeping pills and a glass of wine. "Most people dream of dying in sleep. I think finally I am going to be lucky." 

She smiled and swallowed all the pills down with the wine. After thirty minutes or so, her eyes became droopy, and her brain started fading. She closed her eyes and laid down on the couch. Her phone beeped, and instinctively, her hand extended to pick up the phone. She could barely see through her half-open eyes. The text was from Alexander. "PLEASE MARRY ME!" 

She smiled faintly. She wanted to reply, but felt powerless. Her hand went limp, and the phone fell on her chest and slid to the ground. She turned on her side and fell to the ground next to the phone. Between fading in and fading out, she manages to move her fingers to dial the emergency number. She could barely whisper before collapsing, "Hello, please help."

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