Snippets of Light

Hate at First Sight

It was love at first sight.

Ok, that's a lie. It was actually hate at first sight. The first moment I lay eyes on him I thought, 'My gosh he looks like a jerk!'

But then a spark appeared. A spark of hatred but a spark nonetheless. As it grew it changed. The name calling went from,

"Hey loser!" to

"Hey turkey...umm I mean....goose...err...aah... goat?"

Then came the kiss. I remember the details perfectly but I'm not going to go into them too much because normal people tend to find it disgusting.

It was a Thursday afternoon. We had one of those cliché moments where two people are alone in a room, having a pretty heated argument about how much they think the other sucks, and then suddenly their lips are touching before someone else walks in and they shuffle apart awkwardly. That was 5 years ago.

We were in love from that moment onward.

Ok, so that was another lie. We actually avoided each other for a week and eventually decided to date in secret before going public a year later.

After five beautiful years together, I invited him over to ask a very important question.

The small, round table we sat around was laden with a white lace table cloth and several glowing candles. As he sat across from me I gazed into his deep green eyes and imagined the future: grey skies, thick and polluted air, brown grass and robots dashing down the streets yelling "exterminate!". Not exactly the type of future one would usually imagine when gazing into their lover's eyes but still a potential future.

He looked up from his meal and said, "I need to say something."

Uh oh, I thought. What if he wants to ask the same thing as me? Wait... would that be so bad?

I smiled and told him, "Me too."

"You first," he insisted.

"No, you."

"No, you."

"Ok, fine. Let's both go on the count of three," I said. "1...2...3!"

"Will you marry me?"

"I think we should break up."

I instantly faltered. Tears welled up in my eyes and slid down my powdered cheek. I felt the sorrow ooze out of my damp, blue eyes and saw it change as it reached his heart into guilt. He stared at me for a moment, at a loss for words. His handsome green eyes pulled away from mine, leaving them to drown.

Eventually, he spoke.

"It's not you, it's me." He said the cliché break-up line without meeting my tear-stained gaze. Head bowed, I stood up, knocking over the carefully lain table in the process.

"You are so right!" I cried, "It's all you! It always has been, always will be. Now get out!" my scream echoed awkwardly through the small room as he left. I'm still not completely sure what I meant by 'It always has been, always will be' but it sounded impressive at the time.

As soon as he left, without so much as a glance towards me, I crumpled. Grief overcame me and I felt as though my life was without meaning. I know that even more terrible things could happen to cause even greater grief but to me, this was the worst feeling ever.

So now I lay, a dishevelled mess, on an itchy grey couch in front of the TV, surrounded by crumpled tissues, chocolate wrappers and empty ice-cream tubs. Over the past week, I've only gotten up to use the bathroom and to charge my phone. My sick days are almost up but I don't care. I'm going to remain on this couch, binge-watching everything on Netflix, until the hurt stops. But I know it never will. Pain never dies. It's always there, hiding away in the crevices of your subconscious, only to return when you least expect it. Life goes on. People change. The future happens. And whilst I really hope that everything I imagined happening doesn't, I know that there is a chance it might. Because anything is possible, except getting over a broken heart.