Clouds were rolling in. Menacingly dark clouds that turned day into dusk. The air was thick, humid and too warm to make breathing comfortable. As the sound of thunder began to be heard from far away, sounding the approach of the storm, the wind began to blow.
I was roaming the streets, unprepared for what was to come, frantically searching – searching for what I had lost long ago, for that which would make my life whole, for the only thing that was missing in my life. I had caught a glimpse of what I was searching – of it, of him – turning a corner and I followed.
The wind was tugging at me, its force having increased. I knew what would come, but ventured forward stubbornly. If I found it, everything would be fine. If I had it, I could endure any hardship. And so, I turned the corner after my quarry and came into a promenade, flanked on both sides by old-styled buildings. There used to be terraces up and down this street, but not anymore – they had been taken down, the tables, chairs and umbrellas undoubtedly placed in storage until better weather came to the metropolis. People were running all around, hurrying to get to shelter before the storm broke and the heavens opened.
But no sign of what I was searching for.
My heart sank, not knowing where to go and continue my search, not knowing how to ask people for information. I knew it was over. I knew I had lost it. I knew I had lost him.
I believed I had found you, Love, waiting for me and only me. Instead, I had to run to get out of the rain that had started pouring. And, shivering beneath a building’s ledge, I cried.
I had believed that it was finally time for the rest and the security I have wished so long for. I had believed… yet I had been wrong. It had probably not even been you, Love, who I had followed. Yet again you have forsaken me and left me to walk my path alone, in my despair and misery.
“Love, where are you?” I asked, watching the empty streets soaked in rain. “How can I find you and taste the sweetness of your lips?”
Once, long ago, I too believed in fairytales with happy endings. I too used to dream of princesses in far-away lands and knights in shinning armor. And in Prince Charming. My Prince Charming. I used to dream that one day it would happen to me, that I would find that special person meant just for me and finally have my happily-ever-after.
Alas, such naïve thoughts have no place in my heart and mind anymore. I grew up. I went through many things – good and bad. And I became more realistic. Love like the one I have fantasized about is so rare that, statistically, I will never experience it. Yes, I may fall in love, but it will never be returned to me with the same intensity.
Each time I fall in love, it becomes weaker than the last because, with each new break-up, my heart retreats a bit more inside my shell for protection. It is in pieces after all the lies and pain it has had to endure throughout the years. My hope that it may be possible will never die, yet I fear that I will become so cautious that I will allow the right man for me to slip through my fingers without knowing it and without offering him a chance.
Or perhaps I was not even meant to be happy in love…
Thus, I return to the world I created in my imagination, where I never have to pretend or wear masks, where I can never be hurt or used. There I can truly be myself, I can love whomever I choose, I can be loved to the fullest extent and just how I have always imagined. There I am accepted for who I am. There friends do not stab me in the back and the man I love never leaves to find someone else.
There I am happy…