We don’t talk anymore. And I hate the way we have become strangers.
I look at everything as if through a looking glass… detached… and I see the mistakes I made which have brought me to the place I am in right now. I see now all the sequence of events which has led me to this place in life. And I know now that it is all because I wasn’t worthy of all that was given to me, the reason why I lost everything. He looks like a distant dream. Something my imagination had created out of thin air. He isn’t as perfect as I imagined him to be. He is not even near. But I still love him. I still can’t have him.
He was my inspiration. He was the reason I wrote. I don’t know since when it started, but now I couldn’t write unless I saw him… unless I had some sort of contact with him. I know it’s was wrong to feel this way about a man who could never be mine, but I couldn’t help it. I told myself several times that I didn’t really want him, that the way I felt for him was different, and that I didn’t want to have a defined relationship with him. But the truth was, I wanted it. I wanted all the things between us which were there in a serious relationship. I also knew it’s something which could never be possible. I was a girl in a committed relationship and I was happy in it. But I wanted more. I know it’s so selfish to even write it down, but I couldn’t hold it inside anymore.
It hits me like a tsunami. The waves of guilt drenching me. How did it happen? How did it start? What had I got myself into? How do I get out of it? Why on earth did I let this happen to me? So many questions hounding me… and I know, it’s all my fault.