Written by: Tara de Wet
I have suffered. I have suffered grief, humiliation, pain, though I cannot think of a single moment in my life where I have suffered such pure, unbridled heartache.
The sorrow of having been betrayed is overwhelming, especially when the person to whom you dedicated your entire life and of whom you thought the world is the very person who stabbed you in the back.
Unyielding sobs rack my body as I hug my folded legs to my chest and curl into a tight ball on the floor. The air is cold and damp, there is not a sound, save for the harsh gasps and wails that flee from my mouth unwelcome. The amassing wells of my eyes break and a ceaseless river of tears starts to flow from it, streaking my cheeks in warmth until the chill of the night turns it frigid. The light of a single dangling lightbulb catches my attention. It hurts to look at it as it reminds me of myself all too much. The way it hangs so loosely from the ceiling, helpless, vulnerable, the way it flickers as if yearning for the security of a steadfast lampshade. I could just as well with the minimum of my strength shatter the thin membrane of glass that protects what little power it has. Pathetic…
Buzz buzz
I try so hard. I try so hard to hate her. She broke the trust that we shared, disregarded my blind loyalty. But how can I bring myself to hate a person who I’ve spent an eternity loving? I should forgive her. She didn’t mean it after all… But there’s no mistaking that what she did was done on purpose. You can’t misinterpret someone fleeing from the church on their wedding day into another’s arms. It almost seems as though, in my mind, I’m trying to alter the crushing memory of her betrayal so I have a reason to run back to her, set myself up for a reliving of my current despair, that is assuming she’ll even consider a reunion.
Buzz
The thought of such rejection sends a cry from my lips and my body trembles. I must seem so small, so pathetic to her right now. The machismo of her new beloved must be far more appealing than my snivelling foolishness. I can see her before me now, an apparition of beauty, implicitly and rightfully judging me. I should have made an effort to keep her with me. I should have paid more attention, should have noticed the embers of our relationship dying, losing the spark of romance. I was a fool.
I still believe our love was real. All the time we’d spent together I had only seen love in her eyes. I cherish my memories of her dearly, for I know she does the same, even now. What might have seemed like an ephemeral romance to others will last a lifetime in my heart.
Buzz buzz pop
And just like that, the sole provider of illumination flickers once more and fizzles out to the sound of a strangled cry.
Comments