“What did you
just say?” her words came out in a barely audible whisper.
“Let’s break
up,” he said.
“Say it again,”
she stared at him in defiance. “Say it again,” she gritted her teeth while the
words escaped from her lips with a tinge of menace.
“Let’s break
up,” he dared not meet her gaze.
“Fine.” She got
on her heels and spun around to leave.
“It’s late. Let
me send you back,” the man offered.
Clenching her
fists, she turned and met his eyes. “I never needed company. I am fine ALONE.”
She left,
without looking back.
That’s
her first love, ended with shattered remnants of her broken heart. Chiara had
never thought the first choice she made in life, after so much contemplating,
ended up as nothing. She never thought affection could be repaid by coldness
and indifference. Never did she expect that this would be the end between them.
No more. No more of his spiteful
comments on her appearance, on how she wears, on how she should behave. No more
of his late night moonlit walks around the campus, the deep conversation that
only both had, and the intense gaze and electricity that flowed between them.
When they first met, it was as if they have found their long-lost halves. There
was an instant recognition, as if they have known each other for years. But no more. No more. She had nothing
but a hollowness that surrounded her wherever she went. An overwhelming sense
of loneliness among bustling crowd. She now knew that all those scenarios in
Korean dramas weren’t exaggerated after all. The pain was real.
Every corner around the campus made her think of him, every footstep she made she was thinking about meeting him. The happiness of others made her felt ridiculed, as if she did not deserve to be happy. No more. His promises rang aloud in her head: Let’s go out for a movie this weekend. There was never a movie. There was never a speck of kiss on her cheek. There was never “I love you” … She should have seen that coming. His acts of affection toward her was simply mean comments to ask her improve her physical appearance. And yet she thought he loved her. How silly.
She had almost used to missing him: sudden visits of memories when she strolled around the campus; and had almost used to not seeing him around. She had stopped her hopes of meeting him, of having a peek or glimpse of him walking by, or hearing a news or two about him. She had used to his inexistence, with the existence of him in her memories. No more. No more.
When he suddenly appeared in front of her, she could not respond. Her muscles tensed, and her breath hitched. She dipped her head and clung tightly onto her coat. He passed by her with his group of friends, beaming with chatter and laughter. She stood there dumbfounded, stunned, and only regained her normal composure after minutes. Never. Never did she get a chance to be among his friends, to enjoy the feeling of belonging to his family. Never. And now no more. She felt a dull ache spreading from her chest. It hurts.
After that, she started seeing more and more of him. She found out that she will meet him every Tuesday at 3 p.m. as his class would continue at the same lecture hall as hers. She would cross path with him if she departed from her hostel to the bus stop at 10.30 a.m. every Thursday. She would bump into him occasionally: when having dinner with friends at the restaurant, when she was on her way to the library, when she was doing her groceries.
Then she was used to his existence as a stranger, and the existence of the constant shatter of something within her every time he appeared. She was used to the sudden deprivation of air out of her lungs, and the sudden blindness of her eyes by his laughter. No more. No more.
There was no more between them; the only thing that’s left was the pang of agony, accompanied by insomnia, nightmares and lack of breath.
In her diary, on a page full of scribbles, she scratched something on a tiny space among the words. No more.
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End ---------------------------------------
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