And I wonder why.
We were supposed to have dinner together this evening.
You'll be here at eight, you promised. I was drowned in sheer ecstasy that I almost kissed the phone receiver when I heard you say it. That was sufficient a statement to bring me to the height of the heavens, to align me with the angels singing in utmost glee. At last. At long last, for a night, you're mine.
I dressed up, choosing the finest clothing I have in my wardrobe. I had to look perfect. I wanted you to be impressed, extremely awed that the moment you lay your eyes on me, your mind will stifle and for a moment, you'll forget how to breathe. I wanted you mesmerized and crazy over me with the faintest light of hope that you'll later on decide to stay.
Mindlessly counting the cracks on the ceilings and the number of ticks the wall clock was making, I waited. I waited, for a long time, I did.
But you didn't come.
You never came.
The food went from freshly cooked and scrumptious to a corpse-cold, stale mess. My clothes, my neat and painstakingly picked clothes, have long gathered dust from all the corners of the room while I moved from spot to spot, waiting for those two-three knocks on the front door or even that droning honk of your car. I watched out for the most miniscule hints of your arrival but even with my exceptional instincts and faultless vision and hearing ability, there was not the slightest detection, the slightest sign that you came.
I wondered why. It had to be traffic, I supposed. Or your friends got you incredibly drunk again. Perhaps it had to be that beast of a boss you got; he probably had you under a mountain of workload. Or it could be your mother; she must've had you done an important errand for her that took you all night.
Maybe.
But deep down these excuses I weave to justify your deceit, I knew that none of these was true.
Because you now belong to him and with that, you will never again be mine. With that, you will never come back.
I had you first but my only mistake was I gave you away.
He has happened and he won't vanish. He will always be a thorn among the bushes, pricking my finger as I reach out for the rose. Because as long as he exists, there will always be promises unfulfilled, handpicked apparel unseen and dinners left untouched.
It was I who gave you away. It was I who allowed him in your life.
Now here in my four-poster bed with my legs entangled in the satin sheets, I feel the tender yearning, the painful loss.
And I wonder why.
The 'he' at the ending can actually be any guy but because this is my ficlet, I say it's Sendoh. Hehe. I've been fond of these three lately.