December 02, 2015


He once said that I never really tried to know who he really was and I settled for falling in love with what I have imagined him to be.
What he said was harsh, yet true. I never really knew him. I knew enough of him though. I knew whatever he let me know. The "he let me know part" is arguable but that won't change the fact that he was right. In part I was in love with my imagination of him.

This fact leads us to another fact that he won't probably admit. He too never cared to know me. I could dare to say he never even tried. He too knew enough of me. He knew enough not to love me, he knew enough not to care to know more about me, or maybe he knew enough to stir the relationship exactly where he wanted it to be. I will never know what he knew about me or what he really had in mind because I never really knew who he really is.

A deadlock?

A repeated deadlock!

What he said, how I feel and how it ended is the story of my life.

No one really cares to know me, and I never really know anything more than what they let me know. I end up loving the imagination of them, they walk away, I never really know why they did ... and I repeat.

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