Just a Toy
[ rakaur on Mon Nov 07 at 11:26 PM // category: life, relationships ]
She was the one. It was no fairy tale; it was no love at first sight; nevertheless, she was the one, and they both knew it.
He met her in school, in a single class. He’d never talked to her before, but he’d heard of her. She never knew he existed. He was broken and alone; she was in a crumbling relationship. They fit together, they worked. It was fate.
They started by doing class work together, in a group. Eventually, the group started to dwindle until it was just them. He knew he was becoming attached. She denied it, repressed it; she was in a relationship.
When the semester ended and a new one began, they found themselves in another class together. They often worked with each other, and started talking outside of school. He knew he was becoming too attached. He knew it wouldn’t end well. She repressed it, denied it; she was in a relationship.
They started talking via telephone. They had long, involved, personal conversations. She started confiding in him about her cracked relationship. He was there for her; he was a friend for her. He knew he loved her. She denied it, repressed it; she was in a relationship.
They started meeting in person outside of class and telephone. They went to restaurants together. They went to the theatre together. They went on aventures together. They did everything except love together. Their friendship had nothing but deleterious effects on her relationship.
Her battered relationship took a turn for the worse. He was there for her. He held her while she cried. He loved her. She realized she loved him, needed him, and it scared her. Instead of coping, she hurt herself, and she hurt him. She blocked him out, severed all contact. She wouldn’t answer the phone, wouldn’t respond to any attempts at communication. She just ripped herself from him, like a bandage from a festering wound.
She fixed her relationship with the one she loves. She’s happy now. She ignores any thoughts of him, as though he never existed, as though they never shared anything, as though it never happened.
He found someone else to love. He’s happy now. He only thinks of her when he happens upon her or a memory of her by chance. He tries to forget what she did to him. He tries to forget, but he can’t. Every time he sees her, he knows. He knows she’s the one, and he knows they’ll never be together.
She was the one. It was no fairy tale; it was no love at first sight; nevertheless, she was the one, and they both know it.
-- rakaur // 2005.11.07 @ 11:26 PM
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