Author Raul F. O.

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I Write Sins... Not Tragedies 13 - Rebel Yell

She started telling me how she met this man through one of her older friends from home and during a night out they simply hit it off and started to flirt and joke around. And my mind at this point is fuming with frustration and anger as she goes on with her story. She continues her story, telling me about how as the night progressed they started making out and at that point, he had confessed to her about his wife. My ears can’t believe the story she is telling me as frustration and anger fill her expressions and mannerisms. She looks me in the eyes, telling me that she had to decide then and there what to do. Knowing already what she will say, I avert my eyes and look down at my drink. She continues saying that she decided to accept it and go with it, telling me that she hasn’t been understood the way she is understood by him. I get up, tell her I need to go to the bathroom and ask her if she wants something from the bar. She tells me that she needs just a beer and I leave…

I knew she always felt lonely, but this felt like the first time she went out of her way to do something like this. A deep feeling of sadness pumps within my chest as I couldn’t have helped her in any way. Why does it feel like she purposefully avoided me lately? As I return, I see her smiling. I tell her to continue the story. She tells me that her only problem is with him promising her things he can’t do, like visiting her or meeting in her home town. Her story feels unreal to me, thinking that all these things are usually reserved for soap operas and badly written erotic novels. But then she continued by saying that he is unhappy with his wife and that he might look into divorcing her. At this point, I don’t want to hear anymore of her twisted dumb story, yet I can’t stop her. As she tells me that in his arms she feels safe, happy and loved. And I can’t anymore…

Why? I ask her. She looks at me puzzled and with a faint smile she tells me that she just wants to be happy. You know that you won’t be. And we both know you have shit taste in choosing man and making mistakes. Because we’ve been the same, you and I, when it came to this. So why this? And why now? I ask her. Because I can’t anymore! I’m tired. I am tired to care about what others want and to look for someone. So why shouldn’t I enjoy this when he wants it and I want it too? I want to be free, I don’t want to feel trapped anymore, I want to do what I wish and live life. I want to be understood, loved, held, cared for, not alone and so much more. You should know this better than anymore. Hearing all this, I snap…

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