"The Engagement Party" By Joy Rajan

So I am finally writing again. What a relief. I feel like I have not had any time to myself to think and contemplate what has been going on in my mind. There just seems to be this lost for words as of late. Every time I would see her picture I could help myself but long for her. I hate this feeling. When I see her face I cannot help but smile and imagine that she is here with me. When I am out and about in the grocery store I could see us shopping together arguing about what we should buy and the ridiculous prices produce has now been priced at. I really wish I could just run off and be free of it all. Why did she tell me how she felt about me. Why tell someone you love them but in then say, "We can't be together." As frustrated as I am, I am glad she told me. I feel a weight lifted over my shoulder knowing that someone in the world loves and accepts me for who I am. But I cannot help but wonder if that is enough?

I got out of my seat. Unwillingly I put my pen away and closed my journal. I despised family gatherings. My not wanting to attend or associate with my family has nothing to do with them. In fact they are quite pleasant. When they are not inebriated or some sort of rampage. I am grateful for their support. I know many of us take it for granted when our families openly accept us coming out. 

Angela was not so lucky. Till this day she has not come out to her parents. Though I cannot blame her. Her family are very strong believers. Conservative Christians. Her father is very involved in his church. From what I recall, he has not taken to ministry but nonetheless her coming out to them would be as she put it, catastrophic. I have told her to moved out, but I suppose her family is controlling and she can't seem to find a way out of her situation. Is this too much all at once? I do ramble on I know. What can I saw my mind is overwhelmed and in an utter array. 

Angela is the woman I was referring to earlier, who told me she loved me ever since we met. It has been three years now. I am now sitting here twiddling my thumbs still reminiscing over her and how our lives would be so much better with each other in it. I have tried to reach out to her to show us that our love is worth fighting for. But nothing I saw gets through. My friends seem to think this a hopeless venture. Even though I have been out since I was fifteen, I have not had much experience in the dating world. This fact quite shocks many. For some reason many members of my family seem to think that I have several partners. I have only had two. Serious ones. Angela is the first woman, whom I feel really loves me.

"Mandi! Come on. Angela's sweet and I know you are the romantic type. In all honesty, I could actually see the two of you together. But it goes both ways. You're my best friend and I really want to see you happy. But if she isn't willing to put the effort, you really just find someone else. You deserve the best. I know as cliche as it sounds there are other fish in the sea. If Angela isn't the one you will find your true love." "I know you're right Linds, but still. I just can't wrap my head around it all. I guess you're right." "Of course I'm right. Anyway. As much as you hate attending large events with lots of people -Introverts -you better go. I'll talk to later." "Thank you for listening to me rant." "You're welcome! And Mandi, don't give up okay?" I hung up the phone. I don't even remember dialling the phone to begin with. I suppose it was secondary nature. I have done that before. I would just grab my cell and call Linda. Even though we lived far away she always answered when she good. 

I got dressed and got ready for my brothers engagement party. 

I sat there watching everyone. I could not help but feel as though I did not belong. It was a strange feeling. I could not describe it. It was as though no one could see. I felt quite invisible. My parents kept pestering me to attend tonight. They did not say why. I honestly believe it was because of my skills. I attended art school focusing mostly on photography. I saved up and paid my way through. My parents did not believe art as a way of life. I did get my bachelor of arts in computer sciences and went on to trade school. I don't mind my job at all but it was just that, a job. I did not feel as though it was my calling. I felt empty and drained emotionally every time I went to work. Now here I am with my camera. A free photography. And yes I am also as I found out, the photography in my brother's wedding. No I do not get a seat in the bridal party. 

Everyone tells me I am fortunate that my parents are supportive. They did not react really when I came out to them. But then again they never much spoke about it. Now more than ever I am beginning to feel as though they were silently excusing me for being a lesbian. Well I suppose every family has their own issues. No family is perfect. I suppose it is after all too much to ask for to be respected and accepted for who you are. 

"O you are so talented Mandi!" I looked up and there was my future sister-in-law's cousin smiling at me. I smiled back and thanked her. "You should keep at it. I can see you family isn't supportive of every thing you do. But just a word of advise, don't let that stop you for being who you are." "You know that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, thank you Sam." "Really?" I nodded slightly. She gave me a warm smile. I could not help but thinking how pleasant it would be to have a chance with her. I watched as she went back to her boyfriend. I really hope he realises how lucky he is. Good people are hard to find. Especially good women. And the ones whom I have become attracted to were always straight. 

It wasn't that bad of an evening as I had feared. I was actually quite shocked that it was an enjoyable evening. I ignored my parents and spent as much time talking to Samantha and the rest of Wendy's family. They seemed like a warm welcoming family. I'm glad my brother met Wendy. First there was Margaret, then there was Freida, then there was -what was her name. It is at the tip of my tongue but I can't remember. It will come to me. They were fine. Fine meaning not awful or mean, just okay. The are real simple personalities. Neither of them had anything intelligent or enlightening to talk about. I found them all ill read. I do commend my brother for choosing decent women at least. In many ways, he had better luck with women than I did. Truly it is frustrating.

Two weeks passed and I heard from Wendy that Samantha and her boyfriend split up. He had been cheating on her. I was furious. I know we had only met a few times and well we had not spoken outside of family events but still. She was in someways family. I suppose I should keep my distance. Yet driven but the already existence of distance within my family, I felt I had to find my own family and my own community.

One day though, Samantha reached out to me. We began messaging each other back and forth from on Facebook messenger for a few months and moved on to texting. After a few months, she confided in me that she was pregnant. Her boyfriend was long gone. She did message him and it wasn't after a few gentle reminders -with the help of the a lawyer he agreed to send in a certain amount of money.  My parents were frantic when my brother told them. I already knew. I pretended to be shocked. Sam moved back in with her mother and I offered to help as well. My parents thought it was kind and thoughtful of me to offer help. 

It was great spending time with her. Deep down I was starting to feel what it was like to have my own life, my own family. It was a dream. I knew that there could never be anything between Sam and I but at least with her and the rest of her family I felt respected, accepted, and more importantly loved for who I am. It was quite refreshing. I found myself confiding in Sam and her mom, who's name was also Amanda. I told them about Angela. I could not believe how candid I was about it all. I haven't even told my family about her. Only my friend Linda knew about what happened between Linda and I.

"O Mandi. That must have been such a rough time for you. I have gone through that before when I was not that much older for you. I am so glad that I found my late husband. I wish you could have met Henry. He was such a wonderful and generous soul. I am so grateful Samantha took after him. I was so hoping that Bruce would be the one for her. She has such trouble finding love. I am so glad she has you now. She has friends but no one whom she could really connect with. Well whatever happens my dear, whether Angela and you ever get together or not, do not give up on love. You deserve so much happiness and you deserve to be loved." 

It was so comforting to have a second family. One who welcomes me and is there for me as an emotional support. 

I got a raise at work. Despite the fact that I have become quite robotic at work, I am grateful that my boss recognised how hard I work. She was grateful that she could count on me. Still though, I felt like I was not doing something I loved. I felt as though my motivation was failing me. I knew deep down I just was not doing what I was meant to do. I passed any spare time I had with my camera and reading up on photography. 

My thirtieth birthday was just around the corner. My family had not noticed. They were far to preoccupied with my brother and Wendy. They were hard at work with the wedding plans. I went out with Linda. We went to the Vancouver Art Gallery. She and visited the Monet exhibit and had a wonderful time. I loved Monet. She was kind enough to get me a beautiful print of the Japanese Footbridge by Monet.  I got a frame for it and put it up right away. I can never stop looking at it. It brought me peace and every time I gazed into it I felt myself being transported into the painting itself. I could hear the water and gentle breeze brushing the branches of the trees. 

After the Monet exhibit we made it a point to go once a year on my birthday to the Art Gallery. This year it was "Bombhead". It was fascinating. Linda was a history nut. She was fascinated by the progression of warfare throughout civilisation. More so during World War II and the Cold War. Modern Warfare. I had to be careful about those topics around her. One slight hint of the topic and she will go on for hours on one of her rants.

Even though she went on her rants, I could not help but listen to her awestruck by her intelligence. Despite her parents hounding her into law school, she did her masters in Germany and then her PhD in Belgium. She took up German and French as well. I always admired her gusto. It was because of her that I went into art school and pursued my photography. 

With the cost of living etc. I had to do it on the side. Thankfully my current job enables me the freedom with my schedule. I am so fortunate to have the flexibility that I have with my time. I still lived at home mind you. But that was by choice. I was working to save up to buy my own home. And with my raise things were starting to look up for me.

I went up to my father and told him my plan. I was quite taken aback. He was all for it. My mother even joined in with such positive enthusiasm. 

"We can help you look for a place of your own. It is time for you to step out on your own. Perhaps somewhere closer to your job." "That'll be great Dad! I found a few pre-sales that are coming up in my area. Best to buy soon before the market becomes unaffordable." "You are vey wise indeed. Mandi. Your mom and I probably don't see this as often as we should. But we are proud of you. I know we don't agree on everything. Your mom and I don't with certain choices you have made but still. We are proud of you." He smiled at me. Differently. It was a warm smile. One that said, I love you. I smiled back at him. 

Whenever my dad had time, we went apartment hunting. At last we found one. They layout was pleasant and well thought through. It was different from the other developments. I listened to my dad's advise and chose this building without a pool. It had a decent enough gym. But I did not care so much for that. The balcony was large enough that I could but put my bike out there and thankfully our strata was not strict about it. It was a hidden balcony anyway. I preferred that. So I bought it. 

That was that. My brother continued planning his wedding. I on the other hand searched for furniture. I found grate deals from Amazon to second hand stores. I went about on my own to Ikea, looking around at ideas and taking measurements. 

"Mandi?" I looked up. It was Angela. She was holding hands with decent looking young man. He looked younger than her. "Hi Angela." "How have you been?" "Doing well thank you. And yourself?" It was strange. I was talking normally to her. Oddly enough I felt no remorse no awkwardness about it. Here standing in front of me was the first woman whom I had ever truly loved and I felt nothing. Could it be? Was my heart protecting myself from being hurt. For a moment I could see myself building walls. She left right after. Strange I thought. She didn't even introduce him. He seemed like a decent young man. I didn't feel any negative vibes from him. So I suppose that is a good thing.

I went home. My heart suddenly sank. Before I knew it I took up a pen and began writing:

My heart fell as soon that wonderful voice of love and peace vanished without a trace. I heart danced to a beautiful tune what felt like a moment ago. What we had was celestial dream. It was all gone. Driven away by a cloak of despair and grief. Mercilessly I locked myself in a cold cage with endless walls constantly building around my heart. I grieved for her once. Now I grieve for myself. Loneliness, the burden I bear as I march on this quest of life. These mountains that I climb seem endless. Their peeks riser higher and higher mocking me as I trudge on. I struggle to remain sane. I stumble when I seek out joy. Despite my tiresome efforts this aching sorrow haunts my every step. Painfully,  I lag behind everyone around me. I could see them having their own families, the lives that they want. Here I am, drowning in my own self pity. Biding my time I push love deeper and deeper inside of me. How can I forget her? Can I forger her? O I cannot. I see her now!

Her rich lush black hair flows in the wind. Her dark brown eyes gaze at me with such kindness and love. I look into her eyes and I can see her pure genteel heart beating. I could see the love in her eyes that she has for me. In every beat of her heart I can hear my name. With every breath she takes she gives me life. Her voice sings like the birds in the early mornings of each day. When I reach out to touch her to hold her to kiss her to love her I find myself snatched up by chains. They grow stronger each time I resist. I am unable to speak. My voice fades whenever I scream her name. Fear grips me. Silence arrests me. And my loneliness and despair takes hold. The more I long for her arms the more I feel my heart tearing to pieces within me. This is the end. How I long to find love to be loved. I will have to love myself since there is no one out there who loves me.

I placed my pen down. Tears streaming down my face. I feel asleep soon after and awoke to my mother calling out my name. Dinner was ready. My heart grew lighter. I finally faced my pain. There was really only one way to go, forward.

As I ate, I kept thinking back to that engagement party. There was a lovely young woman who came back to me. What was her name? The door bell rang. It was my brother and Wendy. And there was someone else.

"O Mandi, you remember this is my friend Miriam." "Hi Amanda." "Mandi please, she hates being called Amanda." I kept quiet. My brother and Wendy excused themselves. I found myself standing awkward in front of Miriam. "Actually I prefer being called Amanda." "I thought so. You wouldn't have told me to call you Amanda if you hated it." "True." Silence. "O, I'm sorry. Do come in. I'll help you with your coat. Mom made tea. Fitting since it is cold and raining outside." "Thank you, you're quite the gentleman." We both laughed. I had to admit, I noticed her. Her laugh and her smile. It wasn't that she was more beautiful than Angela. Just that there was something honest and open about her. It wasn't as though she was afraid of her feelings, her thoughts. When she spoke to wasn't afraid to defend what she said. I found it refreshing. 

The two of us ran off and removed of ourselves away from rest of the company. I don't even remember how long we talked but it felt like hours.

"I didn't want to say anything but I was quite surprised about Wendy. Growing up she was always looking at wedding magazines and anything she could find about design and organising etc. I was expected the engagement party to be well thought through and well there would be food." I laughed. "I know. The spread wasn't at all that appetising. And the venue? They could have chosen a more central location. I was quite surprised that they weren't going around greeting people, they sort of just left everyone to defend for themselves. I was so glad that I met you, I wouldn't have had anyone to talk to." "Likewise. I almost wanted to leave. And did you notice how the room was separated. There was the LGBT corner and everyone else." "I got quite a few looks." "O don't mind Wendy's family. They are very religious. And not to offend you or anything, but you are more obvious. Not saying you are stereotypical -" "But I am." I said cheekily. We burst out laughing again. It was true. 

My family was not fond of the fact that I cut my hair off and I now keep it short. I hated my long hair. Every time I went out I felt like I was hiding who I really am. I hated that feeling. And my entire life was just that -pretending to be someone I am not. I looked around at everyone I'd meet and they would be happy just being themselves. I couldn't. I was getting tired -emotionally. I felt drained and I felt lost. I was not sure what else to do. But now things have changed so much. Even just getting a hair cut changing what I wore I felt I was becoming my own person. It felt amazing. 

I did get frustrated at the naive comments ranging from "Are you a guy?" "Stop trying to be a guy." And so and so forth. Naturally me cutting my hair and changing my apparel amongst other things had nothing to do with my wanting me change my sex. And now talking to Miriam made me feel even more proud to be who I am. I could be myself around her and that is no small thing.

"I can't believe that night!" She went on. I was awestruck by her. I had to catch myself at times. I was falling for her. There was no doubt about it. I found her fascinating, intelligent, beautiful and more importantly kind. Kindness is such an essential virtue that I found lacking in so many people whom I've met. And here she is embodying all that is good in humanity. Sure she had flaws. I barely knew her to know them. But to me she was beautiful in spite of them. "I know what you mean. I didn't understand that one young man. What did he mean by tramping about in those clothes demanding money." "O! That would be Wendy's cousin. He's an odd one. I never liked him to be honest. I can't tell you how many times I had to tell him off. He keeps hitting on me and every single time I told him that I am a lesbian he would come back with some ludicrous remark." "O! Right the: You're too beautiful to be a lesbian or I bet I can make you straight again." I could see Miriam cringe. I stopped. She smiled at me. It was a warm smile. I found myself getting lost in her eyes. 

We talked all night long. We only stopped when we were called to have dinner. I asked her out that night. She said yes. 

The two of us went had lunch and walked along the Sea Wall. It was a perfect day for it. The sun was shining. It was warm but bearable. Neither of us cared much for the heat. It was such a blessing when there was a constant breeze coming through. I felt so alive that day. Clumsily we'd bump into each other. I somehow had an inkling that we did it on purpose but I didn't say anything. The look on her face and the smile she'd give me now and then was enough to tell me how was she feeling. Without a word, I held out my hand. She didn't hesitate. And when I felt her hand in mine my heart leapt. I could feel her heart race. I smiled at her and she at me. Neither of us realised how far we had walked. We made it to Stanley Park and then at the spur of the moment just went into the Aquarium.  It was pleasant. More expensive that I had recalled. But that was alright. It was worth it. Any moment with her was. 

My parents did not say much when they saw us together. But I could sense their disapproval. I cared not. I was happy. I was in love. After all it is just love is it not.