*Scene: A desk in a thoughtfully decorated bedroom. Walls adorned with cultural artifacts from various parts of the world. On the desk, a single pen, several sheets of paper. And the writer, female, staring pensively at her medium.
Writer: *Sighs deeply, and picks up the pen… she begins to write.*
“If it was up to me, if I had known what I knew now, I would never have given you the time of day. I would have gone with my first instincts, which begged me to ignore your every call. And, in the beginning, I had – and I was strong and diligent.
But, you… you were charming – exceedingly so – and persuasive, and more than anything, you were persistent. I wanted to believe in that persistence. I wanted believe it was earnest. So, I let my walls, tall and high, slowly come down – brick by psychological brick. I allowed myself to give into your advances, and I was so very happy I had; at least for a short time.
You have to understand, you had come as such a pleasant surprise. I found myself, liking you and enjoying your company more than I had ever expected. More than I thought I deserved. More than I had thought possible. Your smile was warm and unaffected. Your laughter was simultaneously gracious and infectious. Our interests and tastes complimented and supported one another so effortlessly. It seemed like a real dream come true. For a glimpse of a moment in time, I had felt that sensation of being made for one person, and for that one person being divinely designed for me.
Admittedly, you were not the best looking of men. I had done and would do better in physical attractiveness. Nevertheless, what you lacked in that arena, you made up for with an incurable delight in whatever it was you were doing, with a genuine and spontaneous personality most would be hard pressed to dismiss.
So, when all these qualities were taken into account along with the addition of your education, ambitious drive, generous nature, and devotion to your family, well, I was rather shocked when, with all the pretty faces in the world, you were interested in simple, round-faced, almond-eyed me. To use ‘interest’ is being modest, in fact, you appeared quite smitten with me. I say appeared because well… now… we all know the truth.
Those smitten eyes, we now know, were simply part of the facade. You are quite the convincing actor, and my compliments to the playwright. You put on a splendid, if misleading show. And all it cost was my ability to trust, a solidified hopelessness, and the shattered remains of my broken, mangled, heart.
*Cue the orchestra.*