He’s perfect.

He’s smart, funny and quite good looking. He’s considerate and caring. He is supportive and encouraging. He wants my happiness and is forgiving when I fuck up (…which is saying something, considering I fuck up more than I don’t). He belongs to a good family and is going to go places. My family and my friends love him, sometimes I feel, more so, Than they love me. My mom, if she could, would adopt him and disown me.

I met him soon after a rather ghastly break-up. He was there and he was all that. I was young and heartbroken. Three months down the line, we got enagaged. A week after he left for his Masters. The Love story pretty much ended there.

What followed was a half attempt at making it work. I mean if you have all the ingrediants, then the dish has to be nice, eh?.. Well, turns out life isn’t so black and white. So I played the part of the dotting fiance. I laughed at all the right cues. I said ‘I love you too-s’ and I faked orgasms. I did it all. I was sure I could do it for a life time until I just couldn’t do it anymore.

So I keep the phone on silent and Thank God for a demanding job. I don’t shop and I run away from everyone who would bring up the month-&-a-half-away-wedding. I know I should quit… but How?.. What do I tell my parents?.. What do they tell the world?.. What do I tell him?..

I am just hoping that in a couple of years, when my younger ones have left the nest and mama, papa are alone, maybe they’ll not be too heartbroken by a divorce. Maybe they’ll be secretly relieved that they still have a live-at-home-kid?…

…and maybe it wouldnt be all that bad. Maybe?..

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