PAST LIFE DIARY 2 - Story 413 - Not ready to be wed (Marie)

NOT READY TO BE WED (Marie)

I'm in town, carrying two white canvas bags, one in each hand, with leather handles. The bag to the right contains dried brown beans. I feel very sad, hopeless, but I tell myself I must forget about it. A folded piece of paper, a grocery list, is also in the bag. I do groceries for people, three households this time. I still need to get milk and bread. I'm glad to be out of the house in the open air. I need to breathe! I'm so upset. A young man, a ginger-haired lad of nineteen, came to the house, smiling, asking to marry me. Father was okay with it. How dare he bypass my stepmother?? I have plenty of things to do, to arrange! It's disgraceful!

I leave one bag of groceries, note included, outside the gate of a house, even though it drizzles. I believe I brought them everything that was on the list. There's a small paper bag in there too, containing medicine for the father of a young girl of about seven years old. The man's always suffering from respiratory illness. He's very skinny. The young couple has two daughters. For another household, I brought food for "my" two horses. They belong to an old man. He's a grumpy character, but he seems to tolerate me, - I daresay he may even like me - and he pays me well. I bring him beer too. He asked me to let him paint my portrait, but I declined at the time, saying I'd need to wear something else, something nice. I would like my best lace Pelerine to be in the picture.

I've calmed down by the time I come home. Father's still upset with me, but doesn't speak except for saying my name as I come in. The young man's father is here now. He's a friend of my father. Must I really marry his friend's son? Ugh! They don't even care what I want. Maybe I don't want to get married just yet. Maybe I don't want to get pregnant yet. My life would be over, could possibly really be over - my own mother died from giving birth to me. I also don't want to be kicked out of my father's house. I go and sit by the window in the small room upstairs, my elbows on the windowsill, chin leaning on my hands. I suppose I don't have the right to refuse.

Q: How old are you?

Marie: Seventeen. He already asked when I was fifteen. Father told him to wait until I'm sixteen.

I don't like him, don't feel attracted to him at all. I can't just produce those feelings for someone. And I know from what Anna told me what that's supposed to feel like: A pressure between the legs, a desire to have babies, and a love in the heart. Oh, such romance! For whom will I ever feel that way? Frederic is a man without substance. I have no feelings for him at all! The cat comes into the room and prances around, announcing her presence and demanding my attention. Father calls me, telling me to come down to say goodbye to Fred's father. I go downstairs, gracefully give the man my hand, and curtsy. 'I see you next week' he says. 'Yes, sir' I reply.

After he leaves, father sternly tells me to sit. He argues that I can't keep postponing indefinitely, that if I want Fred… well, the man is obviously ready and might marry someone else if I don't grab this chance. We both know who this "someone else" would be, but I was his first choice. And that might never happen again, to be someone's first choice. Furthermore, father argues, his father is a kind man, and so is his mother. A good family, and Frederic is their only child, a good boy and a farmer like us. How stupid would I be to decline such an opportunity? 'What are you waiting for?' he asks, meaning what kind of imaginary city man do I think is going to come for me? Well, I don't know. 'But, daddy...' I argue, 'Did you feel… the things with my mother?' - I'm referring to my stepmother. 'What things?' he says, obviously afraid that I'm referring to exactly what he suspects me to be referring to. I wave my arms in an attempt to explain the inexplicable. 'The… danger' I say. "Ah…" he says, now calming down and taking a seat. He explains that it's either marriage or becoming a nun. 'Do you WANT to become a nun?' he asks in all earnestness. I say: 'No… I want a man… A funny one.' I giggle. "Maartje, Maartje…" he says. Maartje means little Marie. 'Well… That, we will have to talk about' he says, meaning he will discuss the matter with Fred's father Emmanuel, the matter being that Fred and I should have the opportunity to get to know each other better. Outside, it's full on raining now. I hope the situation blows over, and I hope I can have some time alone with Fred to find out if I can like him as a person. The talk with father has been sobering.