The Fictional Diary of A Hopeless Romantic Part 2

In horror, I fling my mobile phone at the glass mirror.

“How dare he?” I screach out loud, without an ounce of consideration for my neighbours next door as my mirror shatters into pieces.

I pace up and down my bedroom. In pain, my heart feels heavy, and my head is in a heated explosive trance – I pick up my now shattered mobile phone from the floor and glance at it menacingly.

“What a waste of a human” I angrily tell myself.

Suddently I feel liberated. –

Almost a decade of my life spent trying to find the right partner when such a notion doesn’t even exist. Why doesn’t it exist? Because love is a choice. In an age where instant gratification is highly sought after, I have reached my breaking point. There is no place for an old soul like me in this confused and chaotic society.

With my hands trembling, i re-read out loud the text message which had perpetuated such a display of emotions in the first place:

“Hi. Thanks for the memories but I’ve decided it’s not going to work out. Take care“.

—

I smile at myself. Sarcastically of course, the resemblance to that of a deranged psychopath is uncanny. At this moment, I can feel an overwhelming itch to kill. If I’m that disposable, surely two can play at the same game right? There is a void within me that needs to be filled. Murder seems plausible, deserved even. Did somebody say justice?

“No one deserves to waste so much of your time” I convince myself whilst frantically looking for a sharp knife. I begin to laugh without filter. The image of his powerless eyes begging for mercy and forgiveness as I point my sharp knife towards his chest is exhilarating.

“Thanks for the memories” I picture myself telling him. “But I’ve decided it’s not going to work out.”

I gracefully stab the knife into his chest and remain still for a few seconds. Absorbing the rich intensity of the blood pouring out of his chest. For a touch of signature, I lift my feet which are embraced by a pair of Louboutin’s and stab the pointed heel into his already open, bleeding wound. I feel his rib cage cracking and my heel sinks into his body.

The blood’s velocity increases considerably as it gushes out of his damaged heart and rib cage.

“I’m satisfied” I say to myself whilst staring at his lifeless body with pride. Finally I’ve got my revenge.

Once upon a time murder would have never been an option, but it gets to the point where enough is enough and you have to take law into your own hands in order to grow a thicker skin.

“Thanks for the memories but it’s not going to work out” I repeat to myself whilst attempting to get hide the weapon and clean up my bloody shoes. I feel like I’m walking on air, I feel……… free.

Laughing uncontrollably I promise to myself that the next person to waste my time or betray my trust will meet a similar faith. I hope it’s him.