A Holiday in France

beachhug

Shared by anonymousdiariesofmine

( A Sequel of Him, my earlier post )

I knew that I shouldn’t. But I fell for you. You. You made me fall for you. But why? When you knew that we were never meant to be together, why? Why take the pain of impressing me, gaining my trust and getting closer to me when you knew this would never work out between us? It aches to accept that I was an entertainment to you. A love interest, was all.
And me, I was no less either. I too choose to ignore the reality while I was busy falling for you. I choose to ignore her presence in your life. Something that is so big that I feel foolish now thinking how I could ever underestimate it in the first place. You made me do that. The worst part was that I was content with the fact that you loved me too in that tiny while. And look at us now.

A holiday in France. That’s what I would like to call it as. I was a holiday that you took pleasure in, when you needed it. I do not know why you sometimes overlook the fact that I’m equally human, and that I would want something more? I did not sign up for a fucking holiday. I want the real deal. I want you, entirely. Else none. It wouldn’t have mattered this much to me if you were single. But oh no, you’re far from being single. A relationship with her for three years (and still counting!) isn’t a small thing. She demands every inch of you, every moment of you. And you are willing to give it to her. Sure, go ahead. But how did you ever manage to get me into this picture? You said you loved me, you said you wanted to spend time with me, and I gave it all to you. Because I loved you too. Much more than you ever did.

By now I have understood the pattern of your relationship. It is pretty much like a lunar phase. Maximas and minimas. You took interest in me when you were in the low point of your relationship. And boy you had your fun. And then, she got back on track. Realized your attention was growing elsewhere. So she pulled you into her orbit again, making you doubt yourself and your conscience. It wasn’t long before you started going out with her more often and chose to avoid me more and more.
Maybe you missed me, but maybe you didn’t want me anymore in your love life. Meanwhile I was still under your charm, intoxicated. I didn’t get it at first. But I did, at some point. She is here to stay. And no one in your life can be as significant and permanent as she is.
You might have loved me in that little while, but we do not have a future together for sure. I’ve made my peace with it now. I prefer to watch you from a distance, occasionally ask you about her, and rarely express my desires to you out of all the times that I miss you. I know that you still care for me, and I guess that suffices.

 


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