B
The wind, cold and bone-chilling, whipped at my face, but I paid no attention. My heart was engulfed in darkness, and emptiness reigned in my soul. I stood in the very spot where my dreams had collapsed several years ago, turning into bitter dust.
In my memory, like frames from a movie, the events of that day flashed by. She, illuminated by the midday sun, entered the café. Charming, with a mass of red hair, emerald eyes hiding a playful spark, and an infectious smile, she seemed to have stepped off the cover of a glossy magazine.
At that moment, I understood what love was. Not just a fleeting infatuation, but an all-consuming feeling, unconditional and intense, like summer heat.
I couldn't take my eyes off her, mesmerized by her beauty and charm. She seemed like an unattainable star, shining in the heavens of my dreary life.
But deep in my soul, hope flickered, fragile as a butterfly, but so desired.
Suddenly, the café door swung open, and he walked in. Tall, athletic, with a rugged face, he was like the embodiment of an ideal.
He approached her, and their faces lit up with radiant smiles. They hugged, and in that moment, my world crumbled, burying under the rubble of unfulfilled hopes all my feelings.
A fire ignited in my soul, consuming all that was rational and good. Hatred towards him, towards her, towards fate, towards myself.
I cursed my genes for giving me an unremarkable appearance, making me a shadow against his radiant beauty.
I hated my parents for not being able to give me the beauty that could have made me even slightly worthy of a happy existence.
The only solace for me became creativity. I drew, pouring all the darkness, despair, and hatred that consumed my soul into my paintings.
Every time I returned to the place where she chose him, not even by her own will, but just by chance,
As if hypnotized, I stared at the spot where they embraced, and a new wave of bitterness surged in my soul.
I vowed never to forgive.
Life is just shit, I hate it, life, this woman, other women, other men, myself, my parents, my luck, which is literally non-existent, I'm just a failure.
In my memory, like frames from a movie, the events of that day flashed by. She, illuminated by the midday sun, entered the café. Charming, with a mass of red hair, emerald eyes hiding a playful spark, and an infectious smile, she seemed to have stepped off the cover of a glossy magazine.
At that moment, I understood what love was. Not just a fleeting infatuation, but an all-consuming feeling, unconditional and intense, like summer heat.
I couldn't take my eyes off her, mesmerized by her beauty and charm. She seemed like an unattainable star, shining in the heavens of my dreary life.
But deep in my soul, hope flickered, fragile as a butterfly, but so desired.
Suddenly, the café door swung open, and he walked in. Tall, athletic, with a rugged face, he was like the embodiment of an ideal.
He approached her, and their faces lit up with radiant smiles. They hugged, and in that moment, my world crumbled, burying under the rubble of unfulfilled hopes all my feelings.
A fire ignited in my soul, consuming all that was rational and good. Hatred towards him, towards her, towards fate, towards myself.
I cursed my genes for giving me an unremarkable appearance, making me a shadow against his radiant beauty.
I hated my parents for not being able to give me the beauty that could have made me even slightly worthy of a happy existence.
The only solace for me became creativity. I drew, pouring all the darkness, despair, and hatred that consumed my soul into my paintings.
Every time I returned to the place where she chose him, not even by her own will, but just by chance,
As if hypnotized, I stared at the spot where they embraced, and a new wave of bitterness surged in my soul.
I vowed never to forgive.
Life is just shit, I hate it, life, this woman, other women, other men, myself, my parents, my luck, which is literally non-existent, I'm just a failure.
