Bitter love

There are two moments in my life that I will never forget. One is when I met you, the other is when I got rid of you. Two glorified moments, I have to admite.

It all started on December of 2017, I was at the park sitting under a tree when I saw you running. By that time I didn’t know what brought my attention to you, but I smiled, and you smiled back, and hell you made my heart melt. Two fool little creatures falling in love with just a smile.

You asked for my number and I tried to play it cool as I hadn’t wished for that since the first second. We started to talk, casual conversation at the beggining, but then we were calling each other, and saying “good morning” right after open our eyes, next month we were sleeping at each other's houses, sharing secrets and clothes, until you became such a remarkable presence, like the sun on summer days. You were always there, warming me up, touching my skin, getting under it until you were part of me too.

I was amazed by everything you were and all the things you made me feel. It was the first time I had really, deeply loved somebody. The type of love that consumes you and everything around. A love that I am sure I'll never gonna have again (is it good or bad, I don't know). And I just wish I had noticed the clues of what I was becoming before it was too late.

Because you were a master on compliments and on make me feel like there was nothing like us, you made me believe that we were special, real, holy. So I made you my religion, and I dedicated myself to it, to you. Even when you said that you wanted more, and I didn’t know what that was suppose to mean, but I gave it to you anyway. More of my dedication, more of my mind, more of my body and sanity.

One day I looked in the mirror and I couldn’t recognize myself, I had became a ghost. Turns out that I discovered that you shine so bright because you take the light of others. You were not completing me with your milt embrace, you were stealing my life, leaving me hollow. I was just the spectrum of the girl who loved you till death (mine and yours).

So I decided that you had to know what you did to me. You had to feel.

It was November of 2019, your birthday, and I prepared a gorgeous celebration as I used to do. Fancy dinner with the wine that you loved and I always pretended to enjoy. We ate and you drank too much and started to pull me to you, saying that you were a lucky man for having me. I smiled and you smiled back, God I hate it now.

But our night couldn’t end without a cake, so I brought to the table the cake I made specially for this moment.

You ate it and said it was delicious. And I still remember so damn well your face of confusion when you throat started to close and you gasped for air. You reached my hand, begging me for help, but I was too comfort on my chair to make a move.

Long story short, you were gone and I am trying to pick up the pieces of the version of the girl I used to be. What a tragic love story you gave to me.