THREE3PERSONS #Wattys2019 [COMPLETE]

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The truth is that through that grieving period I gave myself or as some people may like to say - experienced, I was busy blaming and hating myself.

I vividly remember how stupidly I asked for a break after he got too serious and asked me to marry him after just eight months.

I know that some people get married and live happily in less but I have always had trust issues and marriage was never something in my mind.
The thing that pissed me off about him was how fast he moved on.

I called him after a month from the break up reasonably trying to establish a ground where the both of us would feel comfortable, but as I came to find out he was already dating some other woman.

I mean how he dare ask me to marry him only to run into some other girls' arms in a month's time?
I only asked for some time to think things through.

But I guess he just wanted a family..... and fast. It worked out okay I guess. With me he would have been disappointed since children were an idea too far fetched in my then current life plan.

So there I sat almost crying about my past like a toddler. I so hated myself for that.

That's why I quickly wiped the tears of nostalgia away, put on a bold face and without giving anything or anyone a second thought walked out my door.

As I was about to lock the door behind me I realized something,"Oh no, I really am growing old." I had forgotten to wear my shoes.
I had only grabbed my purse and walked out.

Now this was the other nightmare, I had no shoe in that house that could match with that dress. After he had moved on I gave almost everything that reminded me of him to charity. How righteous of me?

This called for a change of clothes all over and I was in no mood. "I'm going to spend this entire day right here, just me and my closet."I said feeling all disappointed and somehow tired.
All this reminiscing had successfully worked me tired.

I would love to lie and say that I found another dress immediately but I didn't. It took me about an hour and it would have taken longer had I not creatively picked one. "Pick it, pock it, point it..."I recited this childhood song not even remembering how it really goes. That's how desperate and confused I was.

My finger landed on a black Louis Vouitton dinner dress, not as fancy or classy as the blue metallic I don't even know what designers dress, all it said was '#StyleIsFreedom' but I just needed something to wear.

And besides, black was good since it could match with almost anything.
Finally I could get my lazy ass off my bed and better yet out of the house. It was almost a miracle. I rarely went out and when I say rarely I mean never.

I was always an introvert and it was not for lack of choice but my life just seemed more comfortable with me keeping to myself.

This one time this guy came to me from behind I guess trying to impress, I'm sure he's never seen a longer night than that. I hit him so hard that a medic had to be called. Every guy that was there felt his pain if you know what I mean.

It's not that I wanted to but I just found myself too over cautious. Maybe it makes no sense but I just couldn't help it.

It's like every time I tried to be or act normal some demonic spirit had to come in and ruin the moment. The sad part is that it's not only me who got hurt but other people through me.