Chapter 10: OMAR

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Every passing moment feels like a slow demise, filled with pain, overwhelming sadness, and unbearable agony. It's as if the will to live has vanished from within me.

I somehow managed to endure nearly two weeks without losing my sanity, perhaps due to the support of my family. But it feels as if a part of me died when the very reason for my existence disappeared. Was my love for Sam the cause of my desire to cease living? Did I become selfish and push her away?

Since the night I last visited Sam at her place, I haven't seen her or heard her voice. The joyful sound of her laughter, that brought music to my ears whenever I made her laugh, is absent. My beloved Sam is gone, taking with her my dreams and the purpose of my life. The thought of someone else now holding her hands, embracing her, and kissing her lips fills me with jealousy. Accepting that what was once mine now belongs to another is unbearable.

Love is a choice, and I chose to love. In my vulnerability, I opened myself up to potential pain from others. They say when you love someone, you shouldn't expect anything in return, as love is not selfish. All I desired was to give and receive love. Was that too much to ask? My anxiety always intensifies when I think of Samantha. I know you have all experienced heartbreak and failure in love, so I believe you can understand me.

Omar told me that love comes with the risk of getting hurt. I chose to love, but I never chose to be hurt. Must love always lead to pain? Can't love bring happiness? Can't it create a lasting partnership and build a family until old age and beyond? Is it truly that simple? One moment, you're in love, and the next, the person you love announces they no longer want to be with you. It becomes clear that they never really loved you. We were not meant to be together. What an asshole!

I rose from my bed and made my way to the bathroom. When I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. My hair was a mess, and I hadn't bothered to shave or take care of my appearance. Dark circles formed under my eyes, and pimples resurfaced on my face. Damn! What am I doing to myself?

According to Omar, "Walter, she's just a girl. Move on, bro. You'll find someone who will love you even more." It's easy for him to say, isn't it? There are plenty of girls out there who would love me more than Samantha ever did. All I have to do is open my heart to someone else. Sounds simple, right? But they aren't in my shoes, and they don't understand what I'm going through.

I turned on the faucet and washed my face with facial foam. As I heard a knock on the door, I turned my head towards it.

"Walter, my son, Omar is here," my mother's gentle voice reached me clearly.

I quickly rinsed my face with water, grabbed a fresh towel, and began drying myself off.

"Walter, my child, Omar is waiting for you in the garden," Mama called out again.

"I'm coming, Mom! Just need to change my clothes!" I shouted back. Realizing that I smelled unpleasant, I realized I hadn't showered in a while. So, instead of leaving my room, I quickly took a shower to freshen up. My best friend, Omar, can wait in the garden.

After fifteen minutes, I finally left my room and passed by the living room. I noticed my younger sibling watching me as Mama prepared dinner.

When Mama saw me, she rushed over and embraced me tightly.

"Oh, Walter, I'm glad to see you're doing better," I saw tears forming in my mom's eyes as she hugged me tightly. "Your best friend has been waiting for you in the garden." She kissed my forehead and ran her fingers through my messy hair. I had forgotten to brush it earlier.

Why did she say I'm okay? Was it because I left my room? I hadn't left my room for almost two weeks. Or was it because I finally stopped crying over my ex-girlfriend's betrayal?

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