Authors: Ana Paula Macedo
Everything was already scheduled, the hairdresser, makeup, etc. I as Roy’s bride, wanted to be beautiful for him because I hoped to win him at the moment of yes. My producer, made me the way I always dreamed of: beautiful on my wedding day.
I did not take a limousine as I did not think it made sense to go to a prison in a limousine. I went to prison, which was the location of my wedding. Where I could be acquiring the right to be a wife of my great love. When we got there, Roy was ready and everything was ready for our ceremony. It did not look like a prison, I think that was why I associated the rustic walls with a castle and once again I became a princess, after all, in the end, Cinderella ended up with the prince.
Words would not be able to describe my excitement to see Roy again after so long. I had to hold back tears because although I wanted to impress the people present, I would not want Roy to find out that I was hopeful of him.
Roy was handsome. Time had only caused him to become even more handsome and attractive. My heart was pounding and I was trying to live completely in that moment, lying to myself that it was true and that one day I would tell my story with a happy ending. We went to the person who would officiate out our wedding. Roy took my hand and told me:
“You look beautiful, Sophia.”
And I believed it. For the first time in my life, Roy complimented me and revived in me the hope of us being together.
The officer wedded us. We both said YES. That moment could not leave my memory, when the officer finished the ceremony and said,
“Now, the groom may kiss the bride.”
Roy gave me a soap opera kiss. At the time, I thought he'd never kissed anyone like that, with such intensity. Yes, it was true, I was now earning the kiss I had so longed for in my teens. Again, I lied to myself, saying to my emotions that he felt something for me. I really deceived myself with the kiss and ended up forgetting that he had just been for the pictures, to make our wedding album and convince immigration that both our marriage, as well as our love was true. I thought they would believe it, for even I who was a key part of that plan, came to believe that this marriage could be true.
To Roy, the value of this marriage was fifteen thousand US dollars. A value almost stipulated here in America when someone married for papers. For me, the value of this marriage was a transformation that I thought would happen within my emotions when I conquered him.
I was privileged to spend the rest of the day inside the prison with Roy. We talked about various subjects. We reminisced about the people who studied with us, parties, teachers, tests, competitions and other things, but my passion nurtured by him in my teens appeared to be a taboo, a subject that could not be mentioned, but that was what mostly occupied my mind at that moment.
With a heavy heart, and as it darkened, I had to say goodbye to him and again got a kiss which only served to mislead the immigration officials as much as my heart. I left there with Nancy, full of hope, which further increased when Nancy told me out of nowhere:
“How I wish you and Roy would truly get together.”
I laughed and inside me, I thought, everything was conspiring to my advantage.
I denied within myself that I was playing with fire and could end up burning myself. Inside my mind, I began to plan all my future next to Roy. The possibility that he does not stay with me, in my imagination was almost nonexistent. Yes, it existed in reality, but not in my mind, my imagination, where I wrote the chapters of my life and when modified in a while to make them more interesting and adapt them to the circumstances.
Now I was a true married woman who waited anxiously for her husband to get out of prison and to join me.
A few days later, I received the lawyer's phone call saying that Roy’s hearing with the judge had been scheduled for December 18. I immediately thought that this date would not be coincidence but life offering me a Christmas present.
Everything was already arranged. I would spend a month in Florida and live in the same house as Roy, to convince immigration officials that we were together. This meant that he was released from prison on the 18th, and that we would spend the Christmas together. What could be a better present?
I could not wait for the 18th, the date that now meant that I will see my husband Roy again. Deep down I wanted to go back to my teens with him, now married and show everyone that we were together, but when I thought about it, the reality tried to wake me from my dream, as if not allowing me to remain in my illusion, telling myself that everything was just made believe. In those moments, I saw reality as my enemy, who hated me so much that I was not allowed to even dream. To be with Roy for me was not meant to only achieve a desire I had as a teenager, but it seemed to have extended to the point that I began to find it as the solution to my problems. I believed that when Roy would fall in love with me, my whole life would be different. The fact of thinking about winning Roy’s heart, seemed to remove from me that void that was replaced by depression and fear of everything going wrong. I confess that while I waited for the hearing, the only thing that occupied my thoughts was the hope of being able to stay with Roy.
Is it possible that the solution to my life, would be the feat of completing an almost impossible task, which was to win Roy’s heart for love and with the expectation that along with his love, which I did not yet have, he might fill the void in my heart?
I was once again entering a trap set by my own mind, imprisoning me to a feeling created by myself, that not only could end up destroying me but also disillusioning me?
And the fact that I have not revealed my plan of conquest to Roy, was already a dishonesty of my mind that not only planned but also made me bluff. Was I being fair to Roy or deceiving myself, as I attracted him to my dreams without communicating to him that today the desire of my heart was that he became mine?
Was the love of my heart just an escape from myself? Another scam my mind directed to my emotions, deceiving me, trying to convince me that a corresponding passion could change my life, filling my void with happiness granted by the love of a man? Would I be rationalizing?
To what extend would it be normal to let my imagination fly and the illusion take control of me, not realizing that at any moment, reality could show me that fairy tales exists only in fiction? Was I the only person in the world who would rather create a magical world trying to live reality? Why does life have to be so cruel to me as to give me not only pain, but also to my doubts, the uncertainty of the future? Is there something missing in my life besides Roy? Could he really be the solution to my life and fill the void of my heart? Had I been created to suffer, to cry and at the end of life have a desperate diary of a bitter person, who had no chance to change fate or rebuild the future, unable to change the past?
4
The moment that seemed to be like an eternity finally arrived. That was the second time I would be seeing Roy and he would appear before the judge, and will be asked asking to remain in the country, for the mere fact of being in love with me and that he could not go back to Brazil and be away from me. I knew none of this was true, but this lie was good enough for my heart, and my hope was overjoyed.
Our future was in the hands of the judge who had the authority to decide if Roy could stay here or would have to return to Brazil. Therefore, the judge also had the right to decide my future and my happiness. Would it be fair for my happiness to be found in the hands of a person who did not know me, and that could decide my future? All these simply because Roy was actually not born here and when he spoke it seemed to bring a stain through the accent, revealing the fact that he was not from here.
How many lives has this judge sentenced to unhappiness, making decisions for them that not only influenced that momentary situation, but that could also bring side effects that could last a lifetime?
Roy’s cause had become my cause. His fate would impact mine. What the rulers of that country decide on the migratory life not only impacts the lives of immigrants but also people like me, who in one way or another are involved with an illegal immigrant and feared that they may be deported at any time.
I was lost in my thoughts, trying to express a calm that I did not have. Roy thought I was like this simply because I was trying to get around immigration,but he did not know that for me, our marriage was real. While I awaited the judge's decision and wondered how my life would be if Roy were deported, the judge slammed his gavel and gave Roy the right to remain in this country and apply for his green card. For Roy, the American dream had not reached the end. For me, I gained more time to evade my imagination and added chapters to my love story with Roy.
We left there, all happy, especially Nancy, who would no longer have to worry about her son inside a prison. Roy was radiant because he had regained freedom. As for me, after I entered the car, I became thoughtful. Roy would not have to pretend anymore that he was with me. We were no longer being observed by immigration officials and he in turn treated me very well, but without love, without passion and it made me feel rejected and neglected.
As we drove towards Roy's apartment, where I housed myself for a month, I simply lost myself in the daydream of my reality; Roy was not with me. My plan had not worked and I once again became that insecure and vulnerable teenager I used to be. I needed some medicine, a palliative that eased my pain. What is the period of time he would last and would calm my pain?
I could not let Roy and his mother realize my sadness. If they found out the reason for it, they surely would dispute my sanity, for who but a crazy person unilaterally plans a love for two with the expectation of everything working out in the end?
I had a month to bring Roy to my heart. To many, I had taken advantage of an opportunity to get extra money and take a well-deserved holiday. For me, I was not on vacation, but I would be working full time, trying to win the heart of Roy because I thought he had the master key to open my heart and remove from within me all that was not good.
After two hours of travel, we arrived at Roy's house. It was a medium-sized house, not as small as the apartments of New York that immigrants live in and often small spaces that would serve in normal situations only as a wardrobe or pantry, they were transformed into bedrooms to accommodate undocumented immigrants that want to stay there a little while, depriving themselves of perks to gather a sum of money and go to their country of origin; it was not a mansion, but a cozy home, which had a lake in the background that looked to serve as the backdrop for my honeymoon. To me, Roy had left the prison and returned to a castle, where then I would be hosted as a princess, and he only had the duty of making me happy.
I did not understand, not even me, the reason I was fighting so much for happiness, and I had never been happy in my life. Perhaps happiness is that? What does it feel like to be happy? Why do people fight so much for happiness? I looked around me and imagined a very sad world that seemed to be missing a piece of a puzzle that is hidden.
If my happiness resided in Roy's love, why have so many people who married with the love of youth today found to be separated, sad and repentant of ever getting married? Would the covenant of marriage be lucky for some and misery of others? Was happiness linked to the wedding? I do not know, but if it was, I have not felt it. I knew that my marriage was not real, but even in my imagination, I seemed now to see a conflict where I was not sure if the end would be a happy one.
I was the target of solitude, pain and disappointment. I'm tired of looking around me in search of who is to blame. There was a time when I blamed Roy for my sadness. Other times, I blamed my childhood playmates and so on, but it appeared as if I have got tired of blaming and I was just looking for the solution that brings me joy.
5
A week has passed since I came to Roy's house. To sit outside and watch the lake with its ducklings, the grass around the swing giving a charm to the landscape and the small pigeon house became my favorite routine. It seemed I did not adapt myself well inside the house. Not that I was not being well received, it was not that. Roy and Nancy treated me very well, but sometimes I felt like an intruder in there, like a person who was excluded from a situation and instead of trying to include themselves, putting themselves back, they flee, seeking out an escape.
I wondered why I sought this form of escape on the outside, while my prize was on the inside. I think the lake made me reflect, and sitting on the grass by the lake, I saw my reflection in the mirror of water and I realized that the problem was not in the house, but within myself. While I thought so, I confess that I also sat there imagining Roy by my side, holding my hand, caressing me and asking forgiveness for lost time. I could imagine him repentant, asking himself how everything would have been different if he had chosen to be with me in his teens.
“Sophia,”
I heard Roy calling me,
“it is cold out there. Come here.”
To me it was not cold, first because I was used to the harsh winter in New York. Secondly, because the little cold outside and the wind beating on my face, bothered me a little, and made me lose concentration of my pain. That landscape distracted me, but the water for some reason seemed to look at me and call me to reality. I turned to Roy and said,
“I'm coming.”
I entered, soon to leave again in order to do the Christmas shopping. While we waited outside, Nancy hugged me, and for me it was like she silently thanked me for getting Roy out of prison.
We got in the car and went to the mall. Roy did not speak much, but he was a bit playful and the little he spoke seemed to make me smile. His games took me from my thoughts and disguised my emptiness for some time, which did not last long, only a few minutes but it softened and ended up giving a touch of fantasy to my pain.
While we were Christmas shopping, I watched people shopping and they looked happy. Some chose the gifts carefully, as if committing a crime if they gave a gift that the other did not want. Some checked out the iPhone, some couples kissed and walked hand in hand. Some parents smiled with their troubled children, choosing their gifts, looking as though they no longer believed in Santa Claus.