It was a gloomy day which perfectly befitted the moment because we were going to bury someone dearly beloved. I was wearing the black dress I bought (whose length I’d immediately had reduced, Lol) and a new purple trench coat. Along the way some car got stuck in the mud or something but all I remember was that the funeral concession stopped and we had a chance to interact with people. I saw him. Heart almost stopped.
Of course he’d be here, this wasn’t something he’d missed. I think I was beginning to like him a lot more than I’d cared to admit. We talked briefly and you can bet my heart did a few of those flip flops. That didn’t last for long, soon we were back to our cars. I seem to briefly recollect introducing him to my parents; he must have been in the company of my cousins because I’d be committing suicide if I had dared to bring him over alone.
Eventually we get to the burial site. It was still cloudy and quite cold. I had done enough crying for several days so by this time, I was far stronger. I don’t like crying in public, so any emotions were shoved aside; all except one.
He was mostly right at the front taking photos alongside many others, but of course my attention was solely pegged on him. I had people to talk to and followed proceedings so it would sober me for a while before I’d steal a glance and be adequately distracted. I looked around me and noticed there was a bevy of beauties everywhere my eyes could see. Sigh, who was I kidding? A guy like him drew too much attention and there was no way I’d get his.
This crazy fog set in just as the family was heading to the grave site. People started rushing to their cars and choppers because the diminished visibility would be an issue. I had to go find my parents because I was to travel back to the city that same day.
He found me before I could trace my parents. He tells me to wait because he was trying to see if he could get me a vehicle going straight back. I’m guessing he planned to travel with me. Oh a girl had to be flattered by that display of chivalry! Unfortunately, he didn’t succeed but told me that whoever arrived first would wait for the other. I got there first.
I waited for forever! He kept apologising and I understood because he was at someone else’s mercy. After what seemed like hours (well less than an hour) he got there and ice cream followed. Long story short, he took me back to our hostels and stayed for a while to talk. Being the gentleman he is, he handed over the ice cream he bought for himself when my friends got there (yes, I love my friends tremendously but no, I don’t love them enough to share my ice cream).
Of course he’s always been a gentleman of sorts. From the first time we met, I noticed that chivalry. I was fascinated by his vast knowledge and travels. I love people who are well read or travelled. We got along quite well and I loved those conversations. He once got me a very beautiful yet simple bracelet in my favourite colour. I was swooned!
This story doesn’t have a happy ending and it’s worse because it was my fault. Oh goodness, I liked the guy! But then that whole faith thing came up and my unequally yoked lessons wouldn’t give me peace. I’d noticed how much he liked me but I had to kill it. So I withdrew and cut off communication. That was cruel and it hurt me badly, but I had to do it because if I allowed it to go on longer, the heartbreak would have been very ugly!