Cognizance

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Even if I was his first; his first kiss, his first girlfriend and so many more censor-worthy stuff, I suppose he never expected me to be his last. And I had. He was all my firsts too. I saw a future with him. And I shared it, ignoring the warnings and the insecurities. Because I had believed we were different.

Just like everyone else, I thought we weren't like everyone else.

And I had thought he felt the same way too. I know now that that wasn't the case.

"It only happens in movies."

"Of course you'll find someone else."

Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. But why don't I feel that he's grieving over what we had and has now been lost? Why do I see him sad only over the fact that the mess happened and that I am sad?
I am sad over the fact that something so beautiful was lost. Over the fact that I will never be as comfortable or as at peace with anyone so quickly and effortlessly. That I will hesitate and fear and hate myself for ages to come before (and possibly ever) find someone I will allow to pass through my newly built walls.

And he is trying hard to mend it and salvage something out of it.

To be friends.

I valued something beautiful with someone who didn't share the same sentiments.
He didn't feel the same way.

It wasn't as important for him.

I wasn't as important for him.

That's saddening. A harsh reality check.

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