A year ago, my sweetheart I sat to make a plan. A plan for the near future. For the far future. We were kind of frustrated. Stuck in the rut. Itching. We wanted to run. Not run away. Just run.
Me, on the darker side of twenties, and she, on the brighter side of thirties. Two women, with the eyes and dreams of girls’. I made a plan to learn Epidemiology in the US, and she made one to learn Marketing in Canada. My plan kind of worked out, hers did not. We said our goodbyes, and did not cry at the airport.
We grew up fast. We fought, patched up. We made new plans. Of how to pay off debts, how to meet mid-way and go places, of how to see and love the world together again. Not once did we doubt. Or think that we were getting ahead of ourselves.
She called up today. Said she was getting married. My heart sank. I asked her all sorts of questions, before she could answer any of them. She then said, she was getting married to a guy in New York. She sounded calm, happy. I shook and shivered. I kept aside my selfish self and tried finding out about the guy on social media.
I am overwhelmed. Also, if anyone gives me shit about true love, I can ask them to shut up. Very confidently.