She stared at the empty ceiling.
She had been crying non-stop. She was tired, exhausted, trying to figure out what was that painful.
Her expectations or the reality she had experienced hours before.
The thoughts flooded her mind...
How does it feel to be "the one"?
How does it feel to be "the chosen one"?
How does it feel to be "the one he is proud to be with"?
How does it feel "not to be an option"?
How does it feel "to be his priority"?
How does it feel "to be seen"?
How does it feel "to be taken care of"?
How does it feel "to feel emotionally secure"?
How does it feel "to feel loved"?
How does it feel "to be loved"?
How does it feel?
In her mind she had concluded that falling in love and experiencing it, happens to the "lucky ones" and "the chosen ones".
Thinking of how painful it was to watch him with her. She was frightened at her strength to play it off cool. Making sure she doesn't show an emotion or let a tear escape her eyes, when in fact, she was hurting inside.
And even when he came close, she pushed him away. She didn't want to be near him, she didn't want him to talk to her, she didn't want him to look at her, she was disgusted.
"You don't deserved to be part of my life, you don't deserve to meet the people that are close to me, you don't deserve me"- she kept on thinking while he approached her to say his nonsense.
Isolating herself from everyone, she didn't blame him.
Instead, she blamed herself. It was her fault.
She trusted him, she believed in this, she allowed him to have all that impact on her, she gave him the permission. And he didn't deserve it.
She thought he was different.
She thought he cared, she thought he wanted to protect her and wanted to make her feel secure, she thought he felt things for her...
She liked the person she was around him. She was careless and happy. She thought he created the safe space she needed.
She thought he was brave and masculine enough to make her want to be more feminine.
She thought she could let her guard down..
She liked the person he was around her. She thought he was unlike anyone else she met before.
And here she was once more. Darkness, a candle lighting the room and her, alone.
Even the heartbreak was different. Her open heart aching once more.
She wanted to run away, she needed to be alone to think, to rediscover herself, to make her own decisions.
For the past four months she had been calm, her mind, peaceful. There were small incidents here and there but this was the first time after almost four months that she had the need to push him away.
He was no good for her.
Curling into a fetus like position, her tears running down her face, she kept on asking herself:
"Why did I think he was different? Why did I think he could be the one?"
It was time to put her walls back up, set her boundaries and keep him away.
She was wrong, once more.
Why should he be any different?
It was all a game for him... wasn't it?
She pushed him away and she will keep on pushing him away until she has the strength to let go.
It is not as if this had never happened before.
"I thought he was different" - she whispered.
"I thought I was different"
It was time to make her decisions. Since he couldn't decide for himself, it was time she took the lead and let him go. She had reached that point where she knew she couldn't take any more "hits" from him.
"He is all yours"
"Grief is the price we pay for love"- Queen Elizabeth II
"The responsibility of love: To keep another's heart safe."- Bridgett Devoue
© 2022
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