How Mine Ends

‘She looks beautiful as ever. Different from the girl I knew a year ago and my obsession creeps up and slowly it took over my head. In the end, I couldn’t resist but ask her to dance with me. I hated the guy she was with, not out of anything personal, but for being able to grip her by her hips and make her laugh as they danced'.

'I’m pretty sure she didn’t want to come; she must have peer pressure, so she was probably forced to find a date and just be here - like I had to, although I’m here because of her. I knew she wasn’t seeing anyone; she was never that type. She loved herself; too much to be undervalued – again. And that was exactly why I kept falling in love with her, over and over again’.

‘She was glowing, her eyes sparkling as we move along the dance floor. She must hate me, I think. But I can’t help but gaze at her long dark eyelashes, protecting her beautiful brown eyes. She avoids my gaze and I sense pain in her expressions. I wouldn’t blame her; I’m no good man. I place my hand skillfully around her slim waist. I feel the smooth skin between the gap of her dress and I can’t help but grab her closer'.

'I grasp her hand and we move gently to the rhythms surrounding us. My heart melts as I hold her dainty hand and tangle my fingers with hers. “Darling don’t be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years”, Christina Perri sings in the background as I feel her head on my chest; my heart beating so fast that I feel it through my ears. I never realized I missed this, till now. Like they say, you never feel the worth of something until you’ve lost it. And the funny thing is, I still refuse to accept it’.

‘I ask her how her day is and she replies coldly, still avoiding me. She tells me I look good when I’m on formal wear, although she’s seen me a dozen times with it. I can’t help but smile at the first compliment she’s made in ages, but I’m guessing she had a battle with herself on deciding whether she should say it, before she did'.

'I want to whisper in her ear and compliment her; not just about red being good on her; but about how gorgeous every part of her truly is and how I failed to realize it all. And how much I regret everything I’ve done. But I remain silent. I can’t bear to break her again. She remains silent for a long time and I try my best to keep the conversation going, but she backs off and for a minute I feel the urge to leave – leave her alone. But I need her – one last time. Before I get gone for good, I need her’.

‘I decide it’s now or never. “I want to talk to you. Can we just go somewhere? Maybe for coffee?”, I ask. She declines and tells me that whatever I have to say, has to be said right here, right now. I agree but plead to go to a corner, where we’ll have more privacy, to which she finally agrees'.

'A part of me pinches me, begging me to accept the reality but the regretting man in my heart is desperate to make things right; to try everything all over again; avoid the mistakes I’ve made and try to be a better man for her. She won’t accept me again, I’m sure of it. But I want her to know, that I’ve changed and I’m trying. That I’ve learnt from my mistakes and won’t repeat the same mistake thrice; that is if I’ve already done it twice; if I ever get a chance to love, in fact’.

'She glares at me, her hands crossed, her expression with a pretense irritation, while I take a glance at the room, to make sure no one is around.

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I’ve done”, I start, the tension between us growing with every word of mine.

“Your apologies are of no use to me now. And you know that. I’ve forgiven you and forgotten you a long time ago. There’s nothing more than concerns me on that topic, if that’s what you’re hoping to talk about” she replies, rather emotionlessly, but the delicacy of her heart visible through her eyes.

I keep trying. I reason out everything I could to which she responds with scoffs and sarcasm, just like I had when I broke her heart. I’m trying to fix something I broke ages ago, just like she had tried to fix the same thing at the time I was foolish and careless. And despite the differences, either way - I’m wrong’

‘She hates me. I can see it right through. “I don’t want to have this conversation… not now, not ever. At least not until you decide to grow the fuck up!” She yells and turns to leave, disappointed and furious. I’m not even sure that’s all she said; I’m pretty sure she said a lot of other things too but I ignored it all; just that one sentence hit me like a poisoned arrow. But I won’t get this chance again. I’m sure of it'.

'And before I even think of it, I seize her by her wrist and pull her close to me, to which she responds with a gasp. I wrap one arm around her slender waist and caress her gentle cheek with the other. I carefully tuck a strand of her hair that comes in the way of me getting the perfect view of her features. I deftly move my fingers towards her soft pursed lips, her dark lipstick highlighting her lip-line flawlessly'.

'She knows where this is going, but she remains silent and vulnerable as I brush my thumb along her lips. And before I know it, my lips are on hers, tugging wildly to which she responds with deep breaths. I dig my fingers into her hair as I feel the soft touch of her palm on my cheek. I sense her other hand clutching my shirt and just like I thought, she couldn’t resist me any less than I could resist her’.

‘I deliberately move towards her neck, holding her waist strongly than before. Her breath comes in rags as I start to bite her neck. One hand of hers grips me by my hair while the other remains wrapped around my back. And just as I begin to kiss her collarbone, she pulls away. Just like I expected her to. “Stop! I can’t do this anymore! I just can’t!” she gasps under her heavy breath'.

'I lose my confidence and remain silent, ready to accept whatever she had to say. “You hurt me. And I can't ever forget that. Please don’t…” she whispers, her voice filled with less fury as I open my mouth to explain everything, I’ve been wanting to tell her – all the shit that’s been happening in my life, shit which she probably doesn’t care about but shit I need to tell someone and clear out of my mind. “Stop trying to trap me in this illusion of yours. Just, leave me alone. Live your life and I’ll live mine – in peace”. And with that she walks away, leaving me and my stories alone in the dark. I watch the red fabric of her dress until it disappears out of my sight; broken; tortured I am; but at least, still alive’.