The tension that existed between the two was a poison that, slowly but surely, corrupted the well-being of each soul. He, with his deceptive facade and false disengagement, and she, with her worries and unsettled ire.
With any other individual, nothing was amiss. The best that these two could hope for when together was silence in the presence of the other, alacrity and frustration aside. Whatever longing each one had for the other’s company and warmth was suppressed by the festering wounds of deception and resentment, growing in cadence with a ticking time bomb that would soon consume them both.
Sometimes, we fall in love with a coward.
Sometimes, we love someone who casts us aside for the sake of pursuing something that is, ultimately, more attracting by some virtue of a deceitfully physical illusion rather than substance of the emotional.
Sometimes, we are betrayed by those closest to us–for, no matter how virtuous or self-serving their ambition is (especially out of “true love”), they will do whatever it takes to see their goal completed, regardless of who may get hurt.
And, strangely, that’s alright.
Because, sometimes, it takes these to grow into something suited for better than these troubles.