The Moment I Realized He Wasn’t ‘The One’ For Me!
It was 11 am, I had just finished gulping the last sip of my coffee, and was aimlessly staring at my laptop screen. “Three applications down, one to go” I encouraged myself. It had been quite an exhausting week of job searching and house hunting. But, it felt right. I closed my eyes and reigned in my careening brain. This was where I needed to be. This was my fresh start, my new track with no hurdles in sight ..yet.
“Hello! Helllooo!” I heard a thick, firm, and deep voice through my headphones. The voice sounded acquainted. Startled, I quickly put my cup down and nervously looked for my phone, only to find a familiar face right in the middle of it. I had butt- dialed an ex! Not just any ex, but the ex with whom things hadn’t ended the best way, the ex that I never imagined speaking to again, the ex that I had once called my true love.
His face was still the same – dark, with a fine bone structure, and perfectly symmetrical. It was virile, intimidating and gorgeous. I couldn’t help but stare for a second, and then quickly disconnected the call. Considering how things had ended, how he had just left without saying a word, I did not expect him to reach out after. But he did.
Some days later, we agreed to meet for dinner. It had been years since he’d walked away, and left me heartbroken with no explanation whatsoever. There I was, dressed in an elegant, beautiful, long, black dress, feeling confident and chic, all to impress him. It all started with an awkward conversation, to laughter, and comfortably opening up to one another gradually, before I knew it, the night was nothing but beautiful. He apologized for leaving me when he did, and promised to right his wrongs.
That’s all it took – a deep stare, and three words, and I was falling all over again.
Before this day, our relationship hadn’t been perfect, not by a long shot. However, we understood each other, we listened to each other, we were there for each other, we challenged each other, we accepted each other, and we were happy – at least most of the time. I could be myself around him without holding back. The sex was unbelievable, the intimacy unmatched, and the bond underlying it all remarkably strong. Finding all that in someone was close to impossible. I had tried finding it again, but I never quite could.
Then….. There he was standing right there with me, again.
With one smooth movement, he pulled me into his arms, and kissed me.. I had never felt this desired and coveted by him before. One thing led to another, and that was us for the following few weeks.
I loved him… I always had, and this time I knew it was there to stay. But was he?
One word responses, Painful remarks, Blue-ticks, Voicemails… two days.. two weeks.. and he was gone.. again…
But this time, the difference was, I thought he’d stay. That’s what love really is right? Unconditional! Love is only supposed to hurt if it is wrong, but this wasn’t. Love is only hard when you’re giving your heart to someone who doesn’t want to give you all of theirs and he didn’t.
So this time I will not look for him in another, I will not wait for him till another.
Surviving the love that always leaves doesn’t mean forgetting, it means remembering everything. Instead of letting it weigh you down, you rise above it. I chose to stay : still smiling, still loving, still giving and still believing. It has wounded my soul but it has also taught me the art of survival.
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