One and just a number
a story of love, heartbreak and firsts
I met this girl a few years back. Quite the charmer, this one. She completely changed my life. She was everything I imagined and nothing like I was used to seeing. I loved her intensely, and it hurt badly. She took me for a ride, with no breaks or seatbelts. We were on full throttle, unbridled spontaneity.
You see, I was quite naïve back then, and I guess she was too. She opened up to me, expertly carving open my heart simultaneously. My girl had had one too many brittle relationships that didn’t go well, and I was determined to give her the best she ever had.
It all started with a kind gesture, a smile that lit up my heart. Communication ensued, and soon thereafter, two hearts burned for one another.
She was the first I called ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’, and ‘boo’. She had a front-row seat to all my firsts — an exclusive pass. It wasn’t long before we were scorched by our own flames. We lit up a light that we couldn’t control.
Mistakes were made, and tears were shed. It was a whirlwind of passion, love, and hurt.
It’s been 3 years now, and I can’t help but wonder how this is still on my mind. I fell in love with a lover who had been in love more than once.
I had my firsts with a lover who had her firsts with other previous lovers. For me she remains one with whom I had my firsts, she remains eone.
Mine is a tale of two friends who became strangers. It’s a story of one and just a number. To me she’s one, my one and only relationship till date, and for her perhaps I am just a number, an addition to her lists of failed relationships.
