Friday, 5 July 2013

A Lost Love

Yay! I just finished a story I started writing in about Year 10 or 11 (I can't remember).

It started off with just a concept so it's not that well-written, but please bear with me and just keep reading and let me know how well you find it!

Hope you enjoy it!

And please don't take it too seriously!!

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Walking into the supermarket, I saw you.

After 4 months and 27 days, I saw you.

At first glance you looked just as beautiful as I remembered. At second glance, I noticed you put on a bit of weight. Your attire was… less elegant… simpler…cheap. And yet you still looked as beautiful as ever, if not more.

I wanted to approach you; I needed to approach you.

Alas, I thought it too…hazardous. Our relationship was unhealthy since the beginning; bringing you into my life again would only cause me great grief.

I noticed a woman attractively strut up to you, embracing you in her arms.

Oh.

So… you have moved on. And quicker than I have been able to. A deep sorrow overcame me. You seemed happy; I was forced to wonder if that happiness would ever reach me. Or were you just faking it like I was a couple of months ago? At that time I was searching, desperately searching for men, friends and useless shopping sprees to mend the void you left in me.

The woman carried you from aisle three to four. I stood there, helplessly observing you moving farther and farther away from me. I couldn’t bear the pain anymore, and so I turned in the other direction.

I filled my trolley with chocolate-coated croissants, heart-shaped lamingtons, apricot Danishes and jam-filled donuts from the bakery section. Anything to distract myself from you. I even contemplated a Coles Select pastry bun… this is the sad level I have stooped due to your doing.

Passing the deli became a big blur of pre-cooked hash browns, mild-hot salami, smoked ham and bacon dice. Anything to justify the morbid pile of sugar I knew was in those jam-filled donuts.

Milk. Yes, I definitely needed a carton of milk.

I opened the fridge and a blast of cold air numbed me for a second. From the corner of my eye, I saw the same woman. It was her… your lover. I ran, frantic. I could not bear for you to see me like this. A few steps more and I realised I left my trolley behind.

It didn’t matter.

I couldn’t let you see me.

I hid behind a shelf, waiting for you and your lover to leave.

And, all biased aside, I couldn’t help but notice…

She’s ugly!

Uglier than I would ever be. She had caked-on make-up that would shame the desserts in the bakery section, yet from afar I could still see her wide-set eyes, the down-turned lips, the squashed nose and loose, wrinkly skin beneath her eyes.

But she had confidence. She dressed sharply, like a woman of power. Is that what you love? I admit, I was never confident in myself but you were always there when I needed the comfort. Always there to raise my esteem. In fact, I even dared to think that you loved my insecurity. It was an outlet for you to express how much of a man you were. It allowed you to show your powers in comforting fragile women like me. Didn’t you like that? Didn’t you like comforting me in times of distress?

Or did I make you sick of that? Did you instead turn to this woman, looking for some confident and new person that would bring excitement to your life? Of course, I can’t blame you… I was the one that ended our relationship.

I watched in great grief as you and your lover leaved that section of the supermarket.

I returned to retrieve my trolley. I was utterly depressed.

I pushed my trolley along. Slowly, ever so slowly. I’ve forgotten about the milk I left behind in the fridge, but it didn’t matter anymore.

What matters is you.

I turned to leave and check out the items in my trolley, all symbols of pathetic defeat and surrender to life. I placed all my sugary desserts and all my fatty meats onto the conveyor belt. As the person in front of me finished their transaction, the conveyor belt whisked away my items… similarly to how life whisked you away from my arms.

And yet, here we were, in the same place. But I was avoiding you.

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I turn around… just in time.

Your lover… she’s upset about you it seems. She storms off to another section of the supermarket, leaving you bewildered and lonely.

You look so sad and isolated, I want to run up to you and embrace you in my own arms… but how could I? My thoughts run back to when we were together. We were so happy… or at least I was…

I think about what would happen if we did get back together…

Would you even want me back?

“Excuse me, Ma’am, that’s $54.70.”

I turn back to the cashier, crying at the thought of you.

“I…. I’m sorry…” I manage to mumble, “I… I have to do something!”

I turn and run again… But this time, I’m not running away from you. I want you. In my arms. I need you.

After 4 months and 27 days, I couldn’t resist you.

Oh sweet Toblerone, please forgive me!