He was the apple of my eye, the cream of my crop. Everyone was crying while the coffin was sinking into the ground. I cried my heart out. I felt broken inside. I asked myself questions. Why did he leave? He had promised. He had made an oath that he would never leave me.
“Lucy! Lucy! Wake up!” My mother woke me up from a nightmare. Clear tears covered my eyeballs.
After a few hours, I went to see him. I told him about my dream. He told me not to worry; it was just a dream. We were deeply in love and eager to be famous. We wanted money. We found a cash cow: we sold takeaways to school pupils and we made a lot of money. He then became greedy. He tricked me, took all of our hard-earned money and left me with nothing. He spent everything on stupid and forward girls.
He broke my heart into pieces. I was a beautiful damsel before I met him. He took my pride away. He destroyed our dream of being a power couple. He showed me no respect.
We joined our hands together and we made the money we had always wanted. We expanded our business, but we didn’t become famous. He didn’t show me how grateful he was by simply loving me. I turned a blind eye to him, because he didn’t realise my worth.
One Saturday morning, when it was raining cats and dogs, I decided to visit him without telling him. I wanted to find out how he was doing. It had been a long time since I had set my eyes on him. I found him on top of the world. He didn’t even realise that I was dying inside, that he was ripping my heart out slowly. I found him with another girl in his bed. I asked myself again: Am I not good enough? Do I not satisfy him?
I reacted quickly. I took a fork and held it against his chest. “Why me?” I shouted at him.
“I’m sorry,” he replied.
I said to him: “Sorry isn’t enough. I want to rip your heart out of your chest!” A soft voice inside me spoke up. It said: “What am I doing? This is not worth it.”
I removed the fork from his chest and sat down on the floor and cried. He sat with me and also cried. The girl that he had been busy with ran away. He told me not to worry, that everything would be fine. He reminded me of why I love him, and of the fact that everyone has skeletons in their closets. I accepted his apology, in the name of love. We continued as if nothing had happened. The next morning, he came to my house with black roses. I was surprised. I asked him: “Why black roses?”
He said to me: “Not all roses are red.”
I thanked him. I poured him some hot black tea. He drank it with love and showed me his appreciation. I then asked him a question: “When will I get my share of our money?”
His heart sank. He said to me: “Soon. I’ll make a plan. I’m sorry; I used all the money. I’m miserable, and I’m sorry that I betrayed you. You know that you are mine, and that you belong to me. Our love conquers all, my love. I hope that you can forgive me for the sake of our love. Our love will never die.”
Tell us what you think: Would you still forgive and take back a person who treated you like this? Why? Why not?