@nghiabui3292

3 years ago

“This letter isn’t mine.” She turned to him, holding a grey vellum piece of paper sullied with scribbled ink and coffee spills. “You didn’t write this for me, did you?” She tried to sound calm, even though her fist tightly clenched the hem of her drab calico skirt. The light in his eyes flickered, his gaze darkened. His flustered state revealed the answer she sought for without him having to utter a single word. A knot formed in the back of her throat, and her heart throbbed in agony; it was like a thousand daggers were plunged into her chest, shredding and burning her flesh within. She swallowed the unbearable bitter taste in her mouth, letting it simmer in the pits of her soul where a decade’s worth of sorrow was locked away. The corners of her lips unwillingly lifted into a pained smile as she placed the letter onto his calloused hands. “Maria,” He contritely shook his head, “please don’t misunderstand.” “Misunderstand?” Maria’s watery doe eyes pierced through him, eyes that appeared much more collected compared to how tangled her mind was, “What am I misunderstanding?” “That I am, once again, the second choice?” She asked, her voice shaking. “No, that’s not i-” “Then what is it?” Maria lost her composure, “That I am the foolish girl who chases after a man whose heart belongs to another woman?” The tears she tried so hard to fight back, the tears she tried so hard to hide from the person standing before her, came flooding out from her sockets and drizzled down her cheeks like glistening blue satin with hints of silver thread. Maria took a step back, refusing to meet his gaze and trying to suppress the hiccups that were eager to escape from her lips. “For years, I’ve been aching for this very moment, yearning for the day that you would finally reciprocate my feelings. I longed for this day with nothing but a remnant of hope. Waiting for you. Loving you unconditionally.” Maria sniffled, “Today feels like a dream, one I thought I would never want to wake from.” She continued, salty torrents of dejection still cascading from the windows of her consciousness, “I thought I would prance around in joy and immediately run into your arms. I did. I truly did, Ricardo.” “Then let’s be together now. You and I. Us!” Ricardo pleaded, lowering his head to meet her level. “There was never an us. You and I never existed. Not until now, not until you realized you couldn’t have her.” “But things have changed. I want you now. I want you to be mine.” He held her face with his palms as if something was about to slip away from his fingertips. In choked desolation, Maria lamented, “I’ve always been yours, and you’ve always known this. The problem is, you were never mine, and you never will be.” Ricardo stood still, his letter now crumpled up in his hand. He could not deny Maria’s words, but he could not understand them either. To her, he was like an open book. To him, she was a book written in cryptic letters. She pushed him off. “Everything you do is meant for her. Every thoughtful gesture, every amorous emotion––all of that is meant for her, not for me. Your soft kisses, your tender gaze, your warm embrace; they are not for me.” The truth hit him hard, but it hit her even harder. It was not something that she had just realized. She was not oblivious. She knew it all from the start. However, admitting it out loud meant fully letting go. Trading off her ‘victory’ for this sharp, excruciating pain in her heart was something she never imagined herself doing. Maria took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts. “I’ve suffered way too long; I’ve loved you for way too long. It's been 10 years. 10 years living miserably as her shadow. This vicious cycle must end.” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, “I want to–-no, I need to liberate myself from it; I need to liberate myself from you.” Ricardo dropped to his knees and gripped her wrists, clinging onto them desperately, “Please don’t do this, Maria. I will love you, I will cherish you, I will make it up to you. Give me a chance, please.” “Ricardo, look deep within yourself. To you, I will never amount to her. I am not her, and you will never love me the same way you loved your first love, your first choice.” Maria wriggled herself free from his grasp, “I will not be the person you settle for just because you couldn’t have her.” Without hearing what he had to say next, she marched away and left him in a bewildered state. The letter that was once grey and vellum, the letter that was once scribbled with Ricardo’s heartfelt confessions––that letter was now torn to nothing but flimsy shreds of paper scattered along the path she stumbled on. Maria continued walking, not looking back even once. No matter how much she loved him, she had to be her own first choice before she could be someone else’s. She refused to wallow in that position, because second place will never compare to first place. It was a sour ending to this one-sided love, but a refreshing start for Maria. The new Maria whose hands now rested at ease while her drab calico skirt flowed rhythmically with each step she took.

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