Girls Love

A Broken Promise (Revised)

"I'll never fall again. I won't let myself be hurt again. I won't let my heart be broken again." I had promised myself, repeating those words in my head countless times over the years.

So why did I betray myself? Why did I break my own promise?

After six years of being alone, focused solely on work and survival, I met her. I disliked her at first; her way of talking and acting seemed so fake. But she persisted, her bubbly personality and infectious laughter slowly chipping away at my defenses. Little by little, I found myself wanting to know who she really was, what lay beneath the surface. Why did I try? I was doing well, content in my solitude. But I messed up. I let her in.

Blake Richards was the manager of CM Distributions. She was a force of nature in the office, demanding respect and achieving incredible results. But outside the office, she was a different person - witty, charming, and surprisingly vulnerable. She was beautiful, though she never seemed to acknowledge it. Despite her many admirers, she didn't have many close friends. I only ever met one.

Somehow, I felt drawn to her, wanting to know her, to care for her. Why did I try? She was an enigma, a puzzle I couldn't resist trying to solve. She was funny, impressive in so many ways. But she was also guarded, keeping her true self hidden behind a carefully constructed facade. No matter how close I thought I was getting to her, I was wrong. So wrong.

I tried to distance myself, but I couldn't. I had actually fallen for someone again. I didn't think it was possible to fall for someone again, but it happened. And sadly, she was someone I shouldn't have fallen for.

We talked about everything and nothing, laughing one minute and delving into serious conversations the next. It was exhilarating. But deep down, I knew I wasn't allowed to have these feelings. Maybe they would ruin me.

I tried to suppress my feelings, telling myself I wasn't good enough for her. I was too plain, too ordinary, too damaged. I berated myself, hoping the self-inflicted pain would drown out the ache in my heart.

Some time passed, and I found out she was dating someone. I tried to be happy for her, to be indifferent, but a burning curiosity gnawed at me. I had to know who had captured her heart.

When I saw them together, my stomach twisted with a mix of envy and despair. Deep down, I wished for their relationship to end, but I knew I shouldn't wish ill on anyone, especially not her.

Even if they did break up, what then? Would I even have a chance? I tried, I swear I tried, to extinguish the flame of hope that flickered within me, but it refused to die.

Seeing her every day was torture. I felt sick with longing, and ignoring her was even worse because she didn't even seem to notice. What was I hoping for? A miracle? A change of heart?

My friends were close to her. They joked around, hugged each other, shared easy laughter. I couldn't even bring myself to stand near her, paralyzed by my own fear and insecurity.

A part of me desperately wanted to be close to her, even if it bothered her. But my pride held me back. I regret that now. I never thought I would crave physical affection so much, but being beside her and not being able to touch her, to hug her, was agonizing.

When I heard her relationship had ended, I felt a surge of... something. Relief? Hope? But for what? What difference would it make?

Even though my mind was screaming at me to confess my feelings, my mouth formed different words. I encouraged her to find love again, knowing deep down that it probably wouldn't be me. But she needed love, I knew that. No matter how guarded she seemed, she needed it.

How I wished I could be brave enough to tell her how I felt. I didn't care about being rejected; at least I would have known, heard it from her own lips.

Some time later, she was transferred to another country. Even though I was promoted, I didn't feel happy, not one bit. The office felt dull and lifeless without her.

She had told me she would probably come back, but later, she said she wouldn't be returning after all. The office, once a place of excitement and anticipation, now felt suffocating.

I liked her, maybe I still do. But what could I do about it? It was a sad, unrequited love.

Maybe someday, I would be courageous enough to tell her. But for now, I would try to breathe deeply, to keep my head above water, until the time came when I could finally breathe freely again.