A stranger’s tears

This is for the guy who works at the wine store around the corner. I swear I’m not a starker.

I saw you through the window and decided to ask you for a Masseto Tuscany. What I meant to tell you was, hey. I swear I didn’t even know what Masseto is. It was the first drink I saw on the menu and the look in your eyes confused me, that I had to order the most expensive wine in the store. Thank God it was out of stock because I got to know your name and the little conversation we had, on what else I would consider instead of Tuscany was the best moment that evening.

I’m glad after long conversations, we became friends. That was not what my heart wanted but it was what my heart appreciated. Our friendship. Nothing was okay in my life but it seemed to be okay because you were in it.

Days passed and you started seeing her. It was unbelievable how you saw her at the first sight yet you didn’t even give me a glance for a whole year. I knew I feared what love made you feel for her. I stood there with my bleeding heart on my hand waiting for you to take it out of my hand and stitch it with yours. I felt like my heart was been ripped out of its roots every time you kissed her and not me. I saw her face in your laughter and all I had to ask is, why her?

You see, that is why I’m always afraid of writing about love. My figures crump to show me how painful it can be. I sparkle my tears in every page to remind me that every good thing comes with its consequences. Sometimes, I don’t know where poetry ends and where reality starts. Cupid is irresponsible and I’m tired of her using me as a target practice.She won. Not because it was a game yet I felt like I was playing it. I guess I stood out because I was not good at fitting in.

I’m at peace. I know you are not hard to get; you are hard to earn. I can find a way to breathe again. love will not heal me but it will hold my hand when I heal myself.It’s hard enough that you will never be mine, now we are just a couple of strangers.

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