He dropped the blade as blood rolled down his arms, the same arm that had held her and the same arm that's now covered with cuts and bruises not deeper than the ones inside his heart.
He remembered the first time he saw her; the beauty that everyone dreamed to meet in their life at least once. Her charming and breath-taking features stole his heart at a glance. She sat there with her legs crossed and her white dress flowing elegantly over them, matched with those cream heels. Book in the right hand and a refreshing latte in the other. Her hair was up in a ponytail giving him a clear view of her perfectly sculpted face. He could only wonder on how carefully and tenderly god made this girl. She sat there for an hour checking her wristwatch every few minutes. She seemed to be expecting someone. Her agitating right leg was a big hint to her nervousness. He couldn't get himself to go out of the cafe, he sat there and observed and admired the lady even more.
He still had a crystal-clear image of how heartlessly that man had left her behind. She cried a river. Her face glistened as the rays of sunlight fell on her tear-soaked face. Every drop of her precious tears made him hate that guy all the more. How could that guy even bear with the pain of making her cry?
He remembered the days after this, he would pray to meet her yet again.
The kimchi shop around the corner will haunt him with her smile every time he'd leave for work.
Her laughter that echoed, her smile that shined, her melodious voice all of these but most importantly her eyes that pierced right through him. He felt like she was reading his soul every time they made eye contact. He searched for her soul in those diamond eyes of hers, but he couldn't get passed the shiny wall defending them.
Oh, how enchanting was the sight of her trying to hide her laughter behind her pretty hands. He had to continuously wipe his palms to remove the itchy feeling that would come when he looked at her tiny hands. He wanted to hold her hands and know how it would feel to stroke the layer of a tiny cloud.
He succeeded in getting her number but what made him proud was when he fulfilled the greater purpose and that was to make her laugh.
He remembered those giggles that escaped her scarlet lips and they were now mocking him.
It was his most cherished day. Sweaty palms, trembling legs and a racing heart. That evening was perfect; the dinner, the talk and the dance, everything was just right. It was still going well but the fact that he was in front of her house, trying to make out a sentence without creating a fool's show, was threatening to turn this word perfect into something he doesn't even want in the English language.
After few minutes of, 'Oh my god, this is so lame' and 'She is going to hate me now'; he gathered some courage and settled on something.
The problem was that the second he looked at her he appeared to have lost his voice. She looked drop dead gorgeous and his words didn't even qualify to be suitable for her. Again, he was spellbound by her beauty.
So he did what he does every time, he shamelessly stared at her. Checking her out was a wrong expression as anyone could tell how much in love with her he was just by the look in his eyes.
The pretty blue dress complemented her figure and her signature ponytail allowed to showcase her precisely carved collarbone. Her figures kept themselves busy with the keychain hanging on her purse, matched with her coat, just like the other accessories. The way she looked at everything, just not him.
"You should let your hair down." A calm and collected voice broke the silence. She directed her gaze towards him. That's when he realised that the voice was actually his.
"I mean you would look good with your hair down." He said as he tried to fix what was equal to a disaster to him. She looked at him with a bemused expression.
"Not that you don't look pretty now. You do. Very pretty."
He closed his eyes as he said the last words, "definitely ruined it. Well done, giving a girl advice on how she should wear her hair. Perfecto!" He thought...
Out loud.
Soft giggles penetrated his train of negative thoughts.
That's how it all happened. He recalled how her soft, plump lips felt on his own. He was addicted to them.
Whenever he saw that other man he got an exceptionally weird feeling. That man was practically everywhere she was, following her with a stupid smirk on his face. Every time he visited her that man would always be in her office, engaged in a conversation which was apparently impossible to be done without being in that fifteen centimetres radius of each other. Her flirtatious smacks on that guy's shoulder changed target to his chest, his seat shifted from the chair across the table, to the top of her table right beside her laptop which had her and her boyfriend's pic as the background.
"He is a close friend. You know, like a brother." This would be the constant reply he got whenever he asked her about that guy. But he knew that no one is 'just a friend'. Yet he decided to ignore this.
Insecurity.
He remembers his friend's advice to further investigate the issue.
He also remembers how he accused that friend for doubting her. He will always regret that lost friend.
He felt numb. His mind was all blank. He couldn't think of anything. He could hear the deafening sound of his heartbeat. He wished for its stoppage.
His trembling hands, parched throat and quivering eyes, all were giving off the impression of a dying person. He felt so weak on his knees that his legs were all wobbly.
There she was, the girl he gave his all to, the love of his life engaged in a heated session with the man she once called her brother. Too engrossed to even notice the broken guy standing there by the doorway, with his shattered heart. Her arms were encircled around that other man's neck and his were on her hips pulling her closer as they kissed on the couch which she had once bought with her boyfriend.
He didn't know what happened to him but he just turned around and walked away. He walked away from his love, the girlfriend and the soon to be fiancé, or she was supposed to be.
The beautiful diamond ring rested in his coat pocket.
Today was the day he was going to ask the question. Everything was planned. But today was the day she decided to let that guy in, finally.
The daggers that pierced his heart. The tears that fell. The mighty punches that he threw at the car door.
He remembers them all.
He also remembers how she had taken his advice.
She let her hair down but unlike what he had imagined, it was the most disturbing sight he had ever seen.
Every piece of that shattered vase threatened him not to pick them up. The flower vase, the flower petals, the photos and their memories were used to attack the front wall. His palm clutched tightly around the thorns filled stem of the once beautiful rose. His fists met the shining surface of the mirror, the tiny piece of glass found its way into his skin as easily as she had found her way in his heart.
Only he knew how he survived the nights after. Everyone pitied him. Everyone feared what destiny did to him. No one wishes to be the guy that lost his girl to another man.
Sadly,
I am that guy...
And she was the reason to my tears and all I could make out of this was that it was her, her who was now the once beautiful rose...
