The First Love’s Wrath

by AGC | shared on He Said, She Said |

Years passed and everything was like a dream, memories became estranged even beyond recognition.

It’s so easy to claim that I don’t know him at all, to my defense. But, it could be a lie!

Pretense is my current state. Parading, showing off to everyone that I’m okay after everything is the superficial me, deep within, I could still recall the affliction it brings. I’m all for the fact that this ordeal would take a long toll upon me, but not as long as this.

I could still find myself wallowing in an episodic melancholy, succumbing into an unexplainable emptiness and I always find myself creating an ode of despair, my form of therapy. I’m not totally healed, the remnants of the past are still eating me.

Dates, I could still recall those significant calendar numbers so well, memorized each reason behind, just like that sweet feeling every-time your hand clasped into mine.

Love is abusive, it exhausts your emotional being.

But then again, one can only say, “Hey! I just had my fair share of the first love’s wrath, I’m normal after all!”

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