I love him, and he will never now.
Sometimes I wondered why he loved me so much.
What have I done to deserve him?
To deserve his love, his care… His everything?
These questions still run through my mind all day and night.
The way I felt when he sat beside me, shoulder to shoulder.
How he entwined his fingers with mine when he held my hand.
It was obvious. I lived a lie. But hey, I loved living a lie. I should be more precise – I love living this lie.
...Back to my questions: The only word that answered them? Nothing.
I had done nothing to deserve him and what he always gave to me; his love. He was fool enough to love me in such a compromising manner. He loved me. Me! A traitor! No, wait. Me: a coward. And to think cowards where worse than traitors.
At least traitors “chose a side”, cowards just sat back and did nothing.
But he – he did not live a lie. No, he lived in a gruesome reality in which who he loved did not find a way to love him back as much as he adored her. He felt connected with her, with a heartless beast. Each breath, each heartbeat went in unison according to him. God, was he wrong. Did I call it a “gruesome reality”? More like a pink bubble floating all the way to the cotton-candy clouds.
And because of this – only because of this – I left him a week ago. As heart broken as he might be right now, he shall understand soon that I was not worthy of someone like him. Someone so pure, yet so wise. I packed only the essentials in a backpack. And even if I was leaving him, he opened the door for me and kissed me goodbye. Our first kiss, but also our last. A kiss so warm, but so electric it had woken up all of my senses…
“I love you…” His words were merely above a whisper.
“I know.” I said, as I turned and headed for my next stop:
Hell - embracing me with its arms. Its kind, loving arms...