Monologue.

I never knew what it was about him. He wasn’t like any other guys I’ve met before; he was sweet, funny and a gentleman. There was a funny feeling inside; it felt like I was missing a heart. Everything he did I loved, the way he spoke, his blue eyes gazed into mine and the fact that he accepted me for who I am.

During the dull days in the stuffy and old dress maker’s shop, I used to stare through the window and let my wild dreams slip away into a world, made especially for us. We held hands while we watched the gorgeous sunset go to sleep. Left me surprised when he stroked my brunette hair before we shared our first kiss. Ear-splitting fireworks filled the midnight canvas with colourful lights, while the loud church bells played endlessly. His gentle smile had always brightened up my chubby face, and as I felt the warmth of his arms around me, I felt safe and everything was falling into place. He always managed to make me feel special, and helped me to realise that I shouldn’t worry of what others thought of me, we’re different after all.

Returned to reality, butterflies had gone crazy, which left me with doubts at the back of my mind. What if he didn’t feel the same way? I mean I’ve had experienced cheaters before but was in fear of losing him. He’s a birdwatcher and I’m just a… dressmaker. And here I am, in a cramped room full of bits of material and sewing machines, while he explored the world full of wonderful adventures. If
only I had the chance, to smell the sweet sense of flowers, feel the gentle touch of the cold breeze and listen to the chirping calls of his feathered friends with him. Back in the old days we explored through the village and into neighbour’s fields. “The two explorers” they use to say. But as time moved on so did our relationship.

Several times I ordered myself to forget about him, as my mind believed it’ll lead to disappointment while my heart believed in hope. I kept losing count of times whenever he entered the room. The tightness of my mouth became harder for me to let the truth run free, and left my body paralyzed. Late at night, tossing and turning as the tension grew dramatically. It’s time, it’s been far too long, and it’s either now or never. But as morning rose for a new day, the shattered pieces of wishful thinking came true as from the corner of my eye was my Prince Charming all over that thing I’d like to call a Barbie Doll. The clumsy thief returned a Tesco bag that has the puzzle pieces and it’ll take years to complete. But she must’ve been from China just by looking at her, too perfect to be holding a pair of binoculars and too skinny to be from the countryside. Probably wouldn’t last a day in the Stone Age, as for him, held her close, gazed deeply into her eyes. How was I supposed to react? I couldn’t just kick them out. The steaming hot tears blinded my blue eyes before they dissolved into hideous green, just seeing the plastic, made me desperate to smash her face in and release the monster. Instead I shredded every inch of material, watched the spark of electric fly from one machine to another and witnessed years of hope and patience jump right out of the window. But who’s to blame? What would happen if I did tell him?

Hours later and ran out of toilet paper, I had to accept that as long as he’s happy then I’m happy. Besides, I’d rather keep a friend then lose a friend. He may not be the one, but I know that another is hiding somewhere; I just need to keep looking.

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