It was obvious from the beginning that she could leave me at any point. I had made that clear, I am the temporary, you are the permanent. Visually, you were never there. We moved past ten years of our life. When I slipped in front of many, you gave me your hand.
Despite all the chants of she loves him, look, she loves him.
Not for a single moment did she look back. Her eyes bigger than usual, still the same, however, I cannot recall them fully. For her, my first impression was struggling in the dirt, weary of the eyes. All those years, I never figured out what it was, love or just familiarity.
Photo by Dilan NaGi on Unsplash
At night, when she told me years back that she cannot hide it, the colleague in her office she cannot resist talking to. Emotional, she feels like cheating. I stood there. It doesn't matter to me. Or does it? Could I have resisted, or begged her to stay?
She has never been that. Confined. Free flowing. I liked that about her. Although now, reminiscing, I feel like I loved her the most. I do not know how to feel; sad that she left me, or privileged that she was the only one. From that day still, I have never found someone I could tell everything to. I think of the day that I slipped. If not for her, would I have ever known love?
I am still mad at you. You could have stayed.
27 April 2026, Freewriters Community Daily Writing Prompt Day 3086: first impression
