The best things in life are free. As someone said; we human beings never know what we have till it is gone.
I watched my wife sleeping peacefully in our rather huge bed a smile dancing on my unattractive lips. She reminded me of her, the one whose name ought to never be mentioned, maybe that was why I chose to live by my wife forever. Her hair was like Her's, I knew this because the woman fate had chosen to make my personal devil was the only woman whose skin my touch still longed for, the only woman my hands knew;every fiber of her body was still familiar to my hands. I dreamt of her every night, I still do and I hate it. Jolene's radiant skin was exactly like Her's, her lips, eyes and what I hated most to adore; her hypnotic smile. The thought of Her wiped away the smile from my face and I was almost too sure I was flushing, flushing because I hated loving her imperfections, because I was more than tormented by the memories of us, memories I was sure she too revisited every night before she fell asleep, every morning before she got out of bed.
My phone buzzed and I gazed at it, sleepy eyes threatening to close any time. The phone made me think of her, her long huge fingers, her broken brown nails that clearly spoke of the manual labour that woman was used to, the glow in her eyes whenever she got a positive email and her half closed eyes as she strained to read her numerous messages, she had myopia and I loved to watch her try so hard to read my messages. I hated the way everything reminded me of her, like they all never existed before fate chose to bind us for life.
'Luke' My wife muttered in her sleep then put her arm around my waist. Jolene's blonde hair reminded me of my tormentor's dark brown lustrous hair. I had been in love with running my fingers through her hair and she would pout beautifully, a tint of annoyance in her dramatic bottle green eyes; I would laugh and she would hold me tightly, so tightly I could still feel her arms around me. That woman everything a man could possibly want his woman to have; I had been too much of an idiot to see that. I rubbed my small eyes then scratched my forehead hoping the wrinkles would fade away. I had a good number of wrinkles on my rather big forehead; not that I was old, I was hardly thirty five.
'Cynthia.' I muttered unconsciously then cursed under my breath. There were things I hated after she left, not because I always hated them, but because they told me lies I could not avoid hearing. One of these things was sleep, I hated falling asleep because her image was all I saw in my dreams, I would touch her but she always disappeared without a word, just like she did that night; her lovely eyes dull and moist. The fault had been hers; but mostly mine. I had punished her for loving me, I had wounded not just her heart but also her ego. I hated the fact that I had been able to fall asleep while she, the woman I loved had been unable to blink because of the love she felt. I had not been worthy of her love; but a part of me wished she was there with me, I wanted her to love me as much as she had. I had paid
for every drop of tear I had made her shed. I never saw her crying but I was more than sure she did, she was tough, she could take anything and still smile like it was nothing. The only mistake she ever made was loving me. Jolene is nothing like her; she does not love me like she had; she does not care about anything but herself; most women are like that. Cynthia was different, she was nothing like them.
Jolene said something in her sleep and my eyes flew open. Cynthia? Cynthia... Cynthia... I whispered as everything around me began to fade away.
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