APOLOGY
AS PROJECTED, I RECEIVED PLENTY SMS WITH THE FOCI OF gratitude and goodbyes. However one stood eerie; it was unexpected so strange. Claribel Marcus, the girl I adored during my entire high school life, informed me that she was apologetic. It was palpable that it was due to her failure of not reciprocating my love or conceivably infatuation. Her apology somehow diminished the regret of burning four years on waiting for her.
The imbalance of my hormones made the illusion of me loving her too profoundly. Eyes of mine connived with these erotic foes for they created her a portrait of Aphrodite on my sight. Crowning was her hair with it being long and silky. Her complexion appeared to be a perfect reflection of the pulchritude of the soil, of nature. Windows of paradise were her eyes for looking at them tasted a glimpse of heaven. Whiter than pearls were her teeth which could be blinding with their spark. A medley of angels, a lullaby was her voice with its calming tone. Each word of her lips was strumming my heart strings. Tinted with the scarlet shafts of sundown were them; moreover, they were tempting as they seemed to be balmier than the softest beds of roses. When they launched a smile, any man would be a melting candle.
Hence, I daydreamt. I envisage that we could be together in the elusive context of forever; that she would love me too. I fooled myself for I did not admit my acknowledgement of her ground behind giving me key chains with writings on them about quotes on friendship. Endorphins disregarded her attempt of conveying the message that we could never be more than friends.
Stating this, I could not accused her culpable of my long ache. It was me for no one could hurt someone without his permission. For no one did not resist being a masochist in the face of immense sentiment.
I could only acquire the return of emotional investment by reminiscence of the saccharine memories we cherished together: the moment when I wiped her tears and observed her still smiling; the science activity wherein blowing was needed and I was her partner, wishing I could contain each carbon dioxide she inhaled on a jar; the day when we played with paint; the instance when she aided me to win on a memory game wherein I was being defeated several times in a row; the dismissals teeming with her act of teasing for I continued playing chess though I was often the loser and she even bestowed me with a chess book; her endeavor of greeting me on my birthday though knowing that I was never been a celebrant; the nights we shared by making the posts on my account on a social network as the chat box; lastly, the February 13 when she told me I miss you.
Of course, they were only humorous for her but on me, they were figment of imagination. They permitted me to have visions of forever.
Nonetheless, I had had loved her. Daydreaming was over. And acrimony was repudiated for she was not the only one I forgave but also I. Acceptance of the experience assisted me to give myself an apology.
