I am deeply saddened by the fact that I gave up on thinking
that we can have a chance. It’s been nearly six years now since I was last attacked
by this called first meeting attraction. It was magical. I can't forget how enchanted I was with how destiny allowed me to notice your outstanding look - completely different from the rest. It was your untrimmed hair, polished, not lengthy, not untidy but seemed to be problematic. It was the day when I sought help from public defenders about my domestic concerns with my ex-husband. A thing that enveloped me with fears and uncertainties that time. Nevertheless, I stood strong, fought for the rights I had known and worked on the support for my child. I've shared this to you many times. The sad part was, you never cared. It's as if I'm no special. It's as if I was not interesting or I was just one of the problematic clients that knocked in your office for help.
I am recalling how your grin hit me and how your snobbish, unfriendly and distant treatment caught my attention. I was magnetized. Everything was appealing. I liked what I was seeing despite of the hostility. It was strange! You spoke with power. It made me weak. You were the authority. I was submissive. Your soft yet solid way of speaking enthralled me. Your little smile was apathetically insanely unforgetful.
I held the memories for years. I thought we could have a chance. I tried everything for us to have a connection. It's the first time that I liked someone - that I'm more than willing to do everything just to be with you. I'm not sure if there are other persons on earth who would feel the same for you.
I don't want to speak about the legal procedures and everything that concerns the compromising agreement but I just want to speak about how I developed my feelings for you. I nurtured it. I lavished every chance to see you but I did it subtly. I lived those days just thinking that time will come that there'll be the two of us.
You won't definitely wait. The heavenly bodies are my witnesses. I hope they have lives to intervene for me - to be my godparents or so. I hope they could speak in my behalf. They saw it. They knew how I valued and cherished and loved the feelings. If they could only remember how simple and pure my dreams were, how I tried being a good girl, perhaps they would wake you up one day with my thoughts and my memories and my face. These remain to be my desires.
Rationalizing is my last resort. I have to end this undying feeling. This doesn't mean denying this feelings but this explains why I should let go.
I remember "Dead Stars", a story of love that was originally full of hope, so vibrant and so enthusiastic turned to improbability and hopeless in the end. That was what happened.
