Our Fairytale Romance

Our Fairytale Romance

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Mar 29, 2017
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Fiction
Romance
His name was unique. I had never heard it before, and honestly didn't know how to pronounce it. But I learned. I don't know if it was his name, our mutual love for books, or maybe it was just the way he said hi. But I was in love. I fell in love hard and fast. If at the time when I read his first message someone would of told me the pain that came with loving him I would've smiled. To love someone so deeply it hurts is something everyone dreams for. But to love him so deeply was a privilege. The pain that came with loving him was worth it, because he was a one of a kind person that pales in comparison to everyone else. The pain was worth every second I got to talk to him, and I don't regret any second of it.
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Dear Diary: 14/01/2019 Monday I can't believe my luck. After 6 long years of silence, after so much heartache and healing, I saw him today. The one who took my heart, the one I trusted to keep it safe, only for him to crush it beneath his spiked boots. Not literally-he never wore spiked boots-but the pain he caused me back then? It felt like he might as well have. I tried so hard to keep my expression neutral when I saw him, but I could feel it slipping. The surprise, the confusion, the sting of old wounds, all right there on my face. I wonder if my boss noticed. I wonder if he noticed. He looked different, of course. It's been six years, after all, but he seemed so calm, so composed... and I can't deny it-he looked good. Too good. It caught me off guard how attractive he still is, maybe even more so now. That sense of ease he carries... it's the kind of cool confidence that feels magnetic. Damn it, I hope I looked different to him, too. Better, stronger-like a woman who has come into her own. I hope he saw that and thought, "I lost something special." I'm trying to tell myself it doesn't matter, that this chance meeting was just that: chance. But there's this voice inside me, a quiet one at first, now growing louder, whispering, "What are the odds?" What are the chances that, after all these years, after all that we've both been through, we would cross paths again like this? It doesn't mean anything. It can't mean anything. I'm practically married and my fiance is the one I've built a future with. But I won't lie-the thought of him, of what could've been, still echoes in my mind, and it's unsettling how easy those old feelings are to stir.

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