Vick
"Vick, will you please listen to me with an open heart?" Tira asked politely, I know this tone and expression,
"What is it?"I asked, knowing all too wellwhats this is about.
"I don't know how you will feel about me after this cconversation" Tira looked down. She was dressed in her best outfit, with perfect makeup on her face, and every guy lusting after her body.
"Tira, I won't judge you about anything. Feel free to talk," I said. Yes, I won't be judging you because you are all the same.
"Well, in that case. I know you are married, but still, my heart can't stop loving you. It's not just attraction; I truly love you. I was really heartbroken when I found out you have a wife. I promised myself I wouldn't encourage these feelings, but the more I talk to you, the more I fall in love. I don't think I can take it anymore. Please love me back." Tira hugged me out of nowhere.
"Tira, you area good colleague, I don't want to complicate things. I love my wife. It's better if you leave things here. You deserve better than me." I replied immediately and pushed her away slowly. This is the 5th time this year, and my responses are automatic these days.
After minutes of consoling, she left me alone.
A tight slap to the face feels warm in winter, unecessasy but you got it anyway. The picture of Tira and me, which appears to be hugging, was spreading in the company; it didn't take long for people to send it to my wife.
She didn't ask, she didn't know the whole story, she just slapped. Like I deserve it because I married her even though I didn't ever love her.
No, that's not her reasoning. It was Tira, long before that had happened, a girl who hugged me, photographed and mailed it to my wife, she brushed it off because she wasn't pretty, not pretty enough for me to leave her.
But Tira was pretty, rich, and intelligent. Just like my wife, and not the person I love. The fights escalated every time, cracks were getting bigger, her constant doubting when I didn't do anything, wore me out.
Everything was fine—at least I thought it was. Until she shattered that glass I had built. I was free as a kid. Things changed me. I started being molded into my parents' ideal type of son, my teacher's perfect student, and everyone's ideal guy as a basketball player with a handsome face.
That is where I met Sofia. She was popular for being pretty and for her communication skills. I wanted a girlfriend, and soon we started to date. She loved me and told me that I was perfect to be her husband. All these years, I have never told her that I loved her without faking it, just as I did with everyone. I was often happy about my accomplishments. I had convinced myself that that's actually love.
I had a lot of support from my mother. Every time someone helps me, I feel like I'm inclined to be good to them. Habitually, I can't stop smiling falsely. I'm always at a point where I'm broke, but not completely. I had no courage to end our relationship; I had no reason to break it, and it felt wrong to do that to someone who loved the fake me.
So I convinced myself it was fine. I will get used to it. I never found a way to feel different, and why would I feel it now? I hate my judgment.
Soon, I met the person who turned my life upside down.
A week after my marriage, I met her. I didn't have any opinion of her. I barely noticed her that day. The next day, it was just me and her in her office space.
She didn't look well-groomed—not that she didn't know; she just didn't care. Her hair wasn't tied up; I didn't see any makeup on her face; maybe she was late. A plain black sweater with pants, nothing that stands out.
Usually, people look at me in awe and try to start a conversation. Is it my ego bragging, or is it because she knows I'm married? I tried to talk to her about work, and received a robotic answer, as expected. She looks so out of it; she doesn't look at me when she does.
I feel like I should be really careful about what I say—intimidating and cute. A plain face that only knows to look intensely with so much focus on what I am talking about and the way I'm talking. And it's so hard to look away.
She looks sad now that I realize it. Did something happen? Should I ask? I had so many questions. She always had windows open and pin-drop silence. I hate silence and not doing anything, so it usually irritates me, but I feel fine now.
And my mind is calm too. I like this, working together in a room filled with fresh air and silence. Time passed, and we left. I started to focus on her; she only did her job and barely used her phone. She dressed up much the same every day and had very little to no conversation with anybody.
So it's not just me. I should have felt relieved, but I didn't like why she was treating me the same as everyone else. I didn't know when I got to a point where I differentiated between whom I liked and whom I pretended to like.
The realization itself was hard to digest, and the fact that she was leaving the company soon broke my heart. I tried hard to learn more about her and to see where she might end up so I could see her again. I even asked her directly, but I didn't get an answer.
Soon it was her last day of work, our last day to be together. I know how creepy it looks when a married co-worker hits on a coworker. Trust me, I don't intend to feel this way or do anything about it. It was nothing sexual, just pure love, until I touched her accidentally and got hard.
That night, when she came closer and told me that I should take care before leaving the last thin layer of break. I didn't want to hold back these feelings, and I love her way too much to let her go.
That lively heart got a hit when I saw her with him. I thought I lost her completely, but it wasn't true now. I loved her even more when she kissed me. These overwhelming emotions, like ocean tides, I have never felt before. It was clear she was tired of holding back, too. My beautiful first love, Lia.
But reality had other plans; our first kiss became our last.
In a year, I became numb, I was no longer the same person, Ideal Vick was gone. Things fell apart; I could no longer wear that mask again. I couldn't find her or handle the stress from my marriage. I turned to parties and the girls who wanted me, but I rejected them as I was in a relationship.
Actually, none of them rejected my offer day after day, and every time I started to miss her, I went and got laid. They loved me and showed me new depths of pleasure that made me forget her for a second at least.
I was a little drunk; I would think it was Lia in front of me and enjoy it a second later. Never in my life thought I would have these sex streaks, not long after my wife found out and left me. I apologized, but I didn't want to hurt her more, so I didn't hold her back from getting a divorce.
Now, will you please come back, my true love?