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One of my biggest fears was you leaving me for someone else. But now, I realized that you could leave me anytime you get tired me and this relationship. Since it wasn't in your cards to spend the rest of your life with me to begin with.
If I can only go back in time and spare an advice to my younger self, I would tell her to never rush in love. I would tell her that it was better to be single and alone than to be with someone who can only offer her a temporary love - an uncertain future. I would tell her that just because the one you love told you "he loves you back" to never believe it all of a sudden. Because heartache will surely be certain once she discovers that she's just his temporary love. A past time. That he has nothing to offer. Because we both know that we want a long and lasting love. We want someone who'll bring us to ...
Dear Love, You forbid me to ask about the past because you believe that it has nothing to do with us. But why won't you allow me to ask of our future? Is it because our future is uncertain and that you already know, you and I won't last any longer? Is it because you are planning on leaving me behind? You can't say it outright and the easiest way is to not talk of the bleak future? But what about me, my love? You turned all my hopes of our future to muck. Future, Security, Commitment, Fidelity, Marriage & Love. Where thou Art?
How can thee sayeth yond thee loveth me in the m'rning and bef're i catch but a wink at night yet whenev'r i am taken ov'r by mine own jealousy and possesiveness, thee can casually sayeth yond thee shall leaveth me, yond we shouldst endeth this, yond thou art bett'r off high-lone. wherefore, at which hour i confronteth thee with some things yond greatly both'rs me; wheth'r i am in the wrong 'r right, thee belittle me and useth w'rds. w'rds enow to cutteth me? how can i assureth mine own heart and feeleth secureth at which hour ev'ry timeth thee sayeth 'r doth these things t maketh me doubteth about the authenticity of thy loveth, our future?
For a second, I thought that at last he has finally written a quote or poem dedicated to me. But alas! He was merely suggesting about posting for Instagram on Valentine's day. Dear me! I can only remain silent and keep my thoughts to myself whilst sighing with a deep breath. My long awaited dream of reading his eloquent words of love has remained elusive. How disappointing! I am ashamed for craving for something I can never ever obtain. Our relationship, although filled with commitment and love has become platonic - routine. Today, I'll give up my hopes of ever receiving any of your works that are solely created for me. My dear poet, from now on I'll chastise myself for wishing our relationship ...
His eyes glued to the screen ...and the awaited scene unravelled. The waif-like body of a fair-skinned Jewish brunette was in a state of undress, Conspired to fornicate with the German gentleman. Between the beautiful yet tragic story the movie must have held, Its nudity and sex scenes ruined my chances of savouring it. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious was the sight she flaunted, Musical chords echoing in the silence of the night ensued later as their bodies endlessly gyrated. I, on the other hand drowned out the ignominious pandemonium, Dismayed. Suddenly I felt him clutching my hands And I remained silent, frigid. No intimacy from me will he get. I felt betrayed as his eyes lingered to the repetition of the intimate scene. I used to be jealous in moments like this. However I can only despair for I ...