Unfortunately, it’s a shame on me that I never chose the woman I loved.
I was naive and young when I first fell in love. For me, that was like a touch of summer sunshine after long chilling winter nights. I was lonely and alone. My friends had given up on me. My parents were losing hope. I was growing older, more frustrated and upset with my life.
Then, there she was, the person who swept me off my feet! NO! She was not that typical diva, who people fall in love with at first sight. She was the wildflower.
Every time I talked to her, every time I looked at her, every time she smiled at me, a part of me churned. Gradually, without even my conscious knowledge, she slipped into my mind and ever since then, my love for her was growing every bit in my heart. Finally, it grew so big and fat, I started finding her irresistible. Now, it was impossible to stay without her, even for a second.
She was brilliant, elegant, sensual, dignified, a powerhouse of strength and affection. she was an exquisite woman. She would make my whole body shudder with laughter, as she cracked witty and dark humor. Her exotic beauty had left my mind boggled. It felt like I was tasting heaven – spending every moment around her grace, her genuine concern, waking up every morning to her snuggling in my arms.
I loved her wildly. I was glad I chose her.
Sadly, with passing years, we started becoming extremely bitter to each other – finding faults in each other, hurling criticisms at each other, making each other cry. We both were spiraling into a toxic relationship – leaving no space for our love to bloom. Surprisingly, my only dream to be with her turned into a nightmare.
Every single day became so challenging that I even started asking myself if choosing her was really a good decision or not. I wondered if other women would be easier to love, easier to be with!
Every single day I chose her lesser and lesser.
I didn’t leave her like I promised I wouldn’t. But it was worse than that. I was with her but, suffering every day, wishing to give up on her. Giving up seemed an easier escape than holding on to the extreme pain and disheartenment.
Choosing her would mean refocusing on those beauties she brought to my life: her laughter, beauty, sensuality, playfulness, companionship, support, protection, love, care and so much more.
Instead of focusing on the positivity, the light she shed on my life, I started paying attention to her flaws and imperfections.
I started becoming critical of her insecurities, her demands, her internal conflicts, her expectations, and her desires. The more I did so, the more I decided to choose her lesser. The more unattractive, difficult and impossible to handle she became. I started to view her as a burden and no more as a gift that she was.
Now, she started fighting to make me choose her. Which was so foolish of her! She must have known that you cannot make someone choose you, even if you love them.
I think I gradually started losing my place in her heart, which was justified. She was angry, frustrated at me. I think her anger was because she felt insecure and instable with me.
She thought I would stop choosing her.
Which is what I eventually did.
Even though I was with her, I had abandoned her in the worst possible way. I did not choose her anymore. I completely started ignoring her needs, stopped showering her with the love and affection she needed.
By focusing on what I detested in her and not on what I adored in her, I had already deserted her. I had let her wither and die, in the scorching heat of our intense rage, like the dried flowers I lovingly brought to my house.