The Girl He Left Behind

•7•

He may love you.

You probably love him back.

But in the end we are all just puppets of destiny. We make all these choices. We're fooled into believing we actually have a say in how our story ends. In a way being so foolish is a gift. It makes us feel powerful, to think we're the ones pulling the strings.

If everyone accepted the fact that we are not the ones holding the puppet strings. The world would be a gloomy place. We should be grateful that we do not know the future, because it is a blessing.

Knowing the ending, can ruin any good story.

•

After I started crying Abel hugged me tightly, refusing to let go. Now that my tears have subsided he's again, refusing to let me go.  My struggles ceased when one of his hands curled around the back of my neck and turned my head to look at him. The close proximity made me nervous as his eyes remained focused on mine.

I always trusted my eyes when it came to people. My trust was in their eyes as well. I trusted the sincere emotion that can be seen in the eyes. Abel had always looked so sincere. Whenever he said something sweet or when he'd just stare at me.

There was a look in his eyes that can only be described as the look of a man in love. But the Gods have a funny way of screwing me over every time. Because Abel was not in love with me. And because of what he did to me I'm always second guessing myself. Abel was either a brilliant actor or my trust was severely misplaced.

I'd like to place all of the blame on him. It would be easy to do so. But considering Abel is a serious fool, there's no way he could ever be a brilliant actor. A manipulative asshole, yes, but never would I associate him with the word brilliant. So the answer was simple.

I shouldn't trust people so carelessly.

Betrayal is always waiting, always watching, always ready to pull the rug out from under you when you're at your happiest.

"I don't love you anymore."

These words that I blurted out, in an attempt to shock Abel, weren't a complete lie. I don't love this Abel. I loved the Abel of the past. The one who seems like a figment of my imagination, now. The Abel in front of me is nothing like the man I loved.

Now I just have to remember to keep this distinction.

"You're lying," he whispered in disbelief.

"Does it hurt?" I spat, glaring at him fiercely as I continued, "I always hated losing a toy, especially one of my favorite toys. If I were you I'd be either severely pissed off or hurt."

"You think I care?" I gulped at his response.

He's never been this upfront about how much he doesn't care about me.

Realization settled in his eyes as he shook me, "no, I mean do you think I care if you love me or not? If you lost what you felt for me, I will make you love me again. You will be mine again. I don't care if you hate me right now. I am not making the same mistake again Leslie," his breath tickled my ear as he continued, "I'm not letting you go ever again."

"You act as if you could stop me from leaving you again," my victorious reply was cut short as Abel suddenly let me go and stood up.

What is he doing?

I watched him leave the room, and decided to get some rest. Standing up, I lifted the blanket to get under the covers. Finally he's giving me some space.