Part 1
Positano, Italy
The sound of a late bird flying to catch up with its flock before nightfall brings me back to my miserable reality. I look around in daze, and it takes me a few seconds to realize where I am. I lost track of time and have been sitting on the damp beach right on the edge of the water, staring vacantly at the horizon and off into space. Now the sun has completely set, leaving sporadic, puffy clouds tinted with the beautiful range of red, orange, and purple colors. But I am not in the mood to appreciate these amazing beauties. My mind is completely numb.
I look around, but there is no one to be seen; the beach is empty, and so am I. I wipe away my tears, get up, and, shaking my skirt, climb the steep stairs from Laurito Beach. This secluded, small, and wild beach is Positano’s best-kept secret. For decades, it has been the place where locals escape the noise and crowds of the summer rush. And it is exactly for this reason that I came here to be alone. The name Laurito derives from the abundance of laurel shrubs that grow wild in this small cove. I am so exhausted that I must practically drag my body up the stairs; going down, it didn’t seem this long.
I don’t know how long it takes, but finally I get to the hotel and my room. I take a hot shower and drop myself on the bed, letting the tears roll down my cheeks, now sobbing aloud.
It is two days since I have had any real food. For the past couple of days, I have had only water, coffee, and few pieces of apple. I can hear my stomach growling, begging for something tangible to eat. I am starving, but at the same time, I feel sick in my gut and can’t eat anything. Even the thought of food makes me want to puke, so I just push my knees into my belly and stay in bed.
I’m not crying anymore; there are no more tears left to release. Now I am just angry, wanting revenge. The events of the last ten days pass in front of my eyes like a movie. Ten days ago, I had a fiancé, a well-paying job in a law firm, and a wedding to anticipate with excitement. I was stressing over every little detail of the wedding, reviewing the dinner menu, the dessert menu, and the decorations. At night, I paced my apartment, sorting out my vows, wanting them to be more emotional and heartwarming than John’s vows. That worthless cheater—how naïve of me!
Finally, the day was here. I looked beautiful in my tight, white dress, showing my slim and muscular figure. I am grateful to God for my tons of shiny light-brown hair. I don’t care for heavy makeup or big, sticky hair, the kind that, due to lots of products, even a blowing wind can’t move. I prefer a more natural look. So I softly gathered my hair back and placed in it an orange flower matching my bridal bouquet. I wore a soft-peach lipstick and was ready.
I heard my uncle knocking. He was waiting at the door to walk me down the aisle because my father was never around. I took one last look in the mirror. I was completely happy, with a big smile on my lips. I walked toward the door and opened it. My uncle and I walked slowly with the music. All the guests were standing, looking at me with admiration. Gliding by, head high, with a big smile on my lips, I heard the compliments, and my entire face shone with joy. What a fool!