Of course he is no longer there. There being the serene, sunny, loving place of emotions where we were basting for almost two days together; 32 hours to be precise. Of course he would no longer want to make efforts to be there. Perhaps it is the fact that he is leaving in two weeks, perhaps the culprit is the setting where we get to meet, the group of strangers he is surrounded day and night at the hostel, or perhaps the doubt and confusion as to how to be with me.
Of course I want him more. The rejection adds to the enigma, and subsequently to the attraction of him. Of course his doubt hurts me. But I understand him, I understand him very well, although the pain makes it harder. He is not a child, like I am. He is a lost boy, a mature man that knows when to flow with his impulses, and when to reign them in. While I, am like a crazy puppy, drunk on the delicious taste of his lips, his touch and the love he so easily gives.
Ahh, women! Why are we such slaves to emotions? Why are we easily misled by the tsunamis of feelings that wash us over in the momentum? Why do we sell our hearts so cheaply? Our compromises, so dearly? What is it about this damn heart and romance that turn us women into gelatinous fools? Why the obsession? Why the stubborness in pursuing the same continuous mistakes? Some practical woman, must know the answer.