He’s Not The One
I saw him first a long time ago. He was aloof, friendly yet distant. We did our work and went our separate ways.
Then I saw him again recently. He’s still tall, still handsome. Still aloof and distant. This time though, I could tell he likes me too. He showed me pictures he’s proud of taking, played with my phone, literally pushed me around.. but he still didn’t talk much. I wondered what was wrong with him.
Looking at his silhoutte in the afternoon sun one afternoon, I couldn’t help but appreciate his profile. He’s hot, simply put. Tall and slim, he has a commanding presence and a sexy back.
So when I met him later in the night, amidst sweaty bodies swaying badly against the rhythm of music, I walked up to him and struck up conversation. Well, not the place for a conversation with the loud music and the fluorescent flashing club lights but I had to give it a try. Maybe he was the one; the one to set me free from the fear of love. The one to make me believe again.
He smiled. He then said, “It’s not that you’re not attractive, I’m married.”
“Really? How long?” I asked. I had involuntarily moved back.
I wished him all the best in life. Obviously he’s not the one. But for a while I had felt as if he were… and I know this feeling will go away. It’s always like that… the feeling never lasts.
I wish there was someone whom I felt like that everyday.