C.O.LO.R.S
- Reads 113
- Votes 8
- Parts 6
Have you ever had that moment when you realize that you're different? You believe in something no one else does, or you care about someone no one else thinks twice about? Or how about when you want something, you're not supposed to want? You realize that you're the odd one out, the one who has to stand up and say something because no one else will, the one who has to be brave enough to show people that different is ok.
Well, I have.
And that moment, was when I when I saw him staring right back at me.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He was white.
She was black.
But that didn't stop what they felt for each other.
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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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