J&M

I used to remind him, “It’s okay, I still like you…imperfections and all,” as my fingers threaded over his brown wavy hair. I said such in the hope of salvaging the minute, hardly sensible, amount of self esteem his recent lover repeatedly chipped. I want to free him from the constricting bondage of his insecurities, which may finally allow him to see the goodness in himself. He tends to under appreciate himself too much, that’s why.

Insert a whirlwind romance here which lasted for a couple of weeks, and he left.

We passed by each other a day ago. “What happened to you? You got fatter now,” I tactlessly blurted out in front of his face with a smile, hoping for a quick, casual talk. For a moment, those words that I used to say to him two weeks ago resounded to me in the voice of good ol’ conscience. Guilt took over; those words were all I need to compensate for the pains that he had caused. Vendetta starts in finding the subtle pleasure in a simple act revenge, they say. I happen to be a hedonist.

As he walked nearer, he smiled and replied nonchalantly with his usual “Hi!” and walked right past me. 

I wish he didn’t have those earphones on. I wish he didn't have them at all.

Photo from here