Smiling to herself as she sat at the table waiting for him to bring back the drinks. She relaxed back in her chair and gazed out of the window to the cold June day that caused the trees to dance wildy in the wind. She thought about what she had learned, who she once was and who she had now become. She now had a job that she loved, wonderful people whom she knew so true and felt confident within herself to reach for what she wanted.
She was a woman who made mistakes, who sometimes cried on a Monday morning or at night alone in bed. She was a woman who often became bored with her life and found it hard to get up for work. She was a woman who more often than not had a bad hair day, who looked in the mirror and wondered why she couldn't just drag herself to the gym; she was a woman who sometimes questioned what reason had she to live on this planet. She was a woman who sometimes just got things wrong.
On the other hand, she was a woman with a million happy memories, who knew what it was like to experience true love and who was ready to experience more life, more love and make new memories. Whether it happened in ten months or ten years, she would just obey the final message. Whatever lay ahead, she knew she would open her heart and follow where it led her.
Some times, I feel totally okay with being alone. Some times, I missed you and wanted so much for you to be there. Some times, I hate you like how a fat boy hates his salads. Some times, my confidence was so inflated, nothing can nail it. Some times, I felt lonely. Some times, I really wanna be your 100% wife, inside-out, even better than how I used to be - tame down my temper, be your nice housewife at home, sorts out everyday-mundane stuffs for you and an independent woman outside and shits like that. However, time to time, ugly facts just keep coming back to me, reminding me you're no longer the imperfectly perfect man I loved then.
I would always proudly tell my friends and love ones that I've got the most faithful man as my husband. Yes, you've done nothing for this family, you're a thumbs-down gambler who will forget even your pregnant wife at home, crying her heart out. But, one thing for sure that had been supporting me throughout all these fuckshit-my-husband-is-missing-again nights, loving and believing, kept me hanging on, is that... My man is true, to me. And god knows if I am able to find another.
Yet today, I'm pouring out and crying to PIC about those shits that I never thought will happen, shits that slapped me hard, awake.