The Other Woman...

I didn’t want to be that person, the one, who overthinks stuff; the one who creates misery for herself, by looking into things that shouldn’t be looked upon; to pry on situations that needed not to be pried upon.

I hated those women - They brought shame and disgrace to my gender and that’s why everybody so open heartedly mocked them - I mocked them.

I failed to understand how can one not give space to another when you know it’s detrimental for a happy relation? Haven’t they heard a gazillion quotes, articles and blogs that clearly state that trust should be the core to any relation?

But I was naïve.

Because you see there is no happiness in that particular relation. There is this constant fear of losing someone so dear and valuable to you that you just can’t afford to take the risk. What if that particular scenario happened again? What of you’re so caught up in your own life that you fail to notice things differently about a person. And when you do notice time has already taken its toll.

Have you seen happy faces in your newsfeed, snapchats and insta-stories? Well I was the epitome of those faces. I proudly flaunted that. I openly declared my undying love for you everywhere. I called you loyal in so many circumstances, at so many places, to so many different people that I’ve literally lost the count. But you see I was naïve. I could have never imagined you being with some other woman, let alone flirt with her. It was totally bizarre! I used to laugh at that picture.

And then that’s what I did. I laughed that whole night. I laughed endlessly reading your texts over and over again. I laughed profusely to your flirtatious comments. I laughed open heartedly when you made virtual love to her. I laughed freely remembering the night before when you made love to me. I laughed generously because I knew after that I wouldn’t be the same again. I wouldn’t be naïve and carefree. I would be what you have made me.

And I hate being me now.