rebecca

Once upon a time, I lived in the shadows of manderley. The air I breathed in reeked of her. The car suffocated me with her presence. Even Maxim, my Maxim could not be mine; for she was always there, surrounding him, engulfing him. I would win over Maxim for sometime only for her to win him back, when he would tell me, angry and frustrated, that he shall never be able to feel love for anyone ever again. How I hated her. How I wished her to let go off Maxim. How I cried. How I prayed. All to no avail, of course. I could feel the way I was being sucked into a manderley. The same pattern, with a different end. She made me feel clumsy and ugly, inadequate and childish. I longed for her finesse, her grace, her beauty. She made me feel as if I was sixteen again. I hated her. Maxim was there. Helpless, eluded by love. He cared for me, again like a school girl. And he couldn’t understand. My suffocation, my uneasiness, my terror, my love, my need. He couldn’t understand. Today I am still not completely out of the shadows of manderley. But I am inching away. I know she has won. Hers was the first claim and she held on to it. I have lost Maxim, but now I wonder, was he ever mine to lose? I have lost my first love. She will always have hers. And no matter how much I hate her, I shall always admire the power of first love. Mine. Maxim’s.