Prologue
There are days when one feels the most misery in their lifetime. Unless one is on their deathbed, its hard to know which one was the most miserable.
Don’t worry. I’m not dead yet. Though life may be a single blink, I am too young and too slow to die.
That being said, I may die any minute now. Because today is the most miserable day of my life (so far). Today is the day I confessed my undying love to my adorable Constantine.
What went wrong? What happened to you? - are the questions you may have for me right now. Nothing went wrong. The only thing that was wrong was me.
The day started out as ordinary as it possibly can - boring, if I may call it that. The sun was blazing through my thin, grey curtains when I opened my eyes. I fell out of bed as usual. But it was the right side of the bed, and I could feel it. My gut was telling me that today was indeed the day to fess up my love for Constantine.
Now - I am not a woman of instincts. I rely on logic and conscience. That is ironic, because I have had many miserable days in my two-and-a-half-decades long life, and had suffered many rejections. I can’t explain it now, but it was logic.
Today, my gut told me to ask Constantine - or Tina, as I called her in my dreams - out on a date. Tina was my new coworker at the firm that I was working in, and she caught my heart the second she walked into the office. She was stunning. A very overused phrase, yes, but she was just simply stunning. Her smile, her somewhat woody scent, her purple knit sweaters, and, children beware, her butt.
I’m an adult. I’m allowed to say my love earnestly. When I was a teenager, I wasn’t, because I would have been thrown out of my house. But now I’m independent. So I am valid to be very honest.
Constantine Mayvleene.
That was her name. She was reaching her thirties, and wisdom was already spilling out of her jet-black eyes. A PhD in Forensic Law was all I knew about her, other than the fact that she had a cat at home named Sherlock, which she frequently talked about.
I loved her with all my heart. She was everything that I wanted - she was older and wiser than me. She had a cat. Most importantly, she didn't flinch when I told her I was once detained at a psychiatric unit for PTSD and depression.
So I went and asked her out. Not at the office, because there's too many people. I asked her out when we were out for lunch. I bought her a rose, and before I knew it, my tongue was beating faster than my heart. Then, I looked up from the ground.
The look on her face.
