Unrequited Love

Being a married woman, childless and isolated, love for her was the only thing in matter. She was a beautiful young lady both inwards and outwards, something that seemed to be flattering her husband more than herself. She had been serving him with chastity, since the very first day of their marriage. Her behavior was always characterized by smoothness, calm and patience, as if she was divinely guided to do so. Her caring and comforting acts were viewed by her husband as a safe haven among the storms of life. She never complaint or grumbled about anything, having strong faith and hope for a better tomorrow. She made numerous sacrifices for his sake and happiness, for granting all his desires, for helping him to achieve his goals and see his dreams come true.

Being a conservative man, unemployed and disappointed, love for him was the last thing in matter. He was a charm middle-aged man, experienced and well-educated, something that seemed to impress both males and females in each company. He used to be ambitious and show strong zeal when striving for a successful life, but a sequence of bad luck events cut off his up going course. Drowning day after day in depression, he became grumpier and nervous almost about everything. His perspective was depraved by any signs of optimism or hope and he often considered himself as a loser. His broken wings, his lost pride were a bad advisor for his moves that usually turned against the only innocent and nevertheless sleepless guard angel of his life: his wife.

Like an over-pressed balloon she reached her limits and one day made her burst. She was no longer sweet and calm, patient or tender. An active volcano – that’s what she was – which erupted after a long time of tranquility, burning with its lava all around. Leaving their home, she destroyed almost everything: their common life and routine, his certainty of a haven, her hope of a change, their dreams. Only one thing remained undamaged: unrequited love.

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