I was the main one and she was the other woman.

There was a point in my life I mindlessly fell ‘in love’ with a certain boy. The one who thought he was slick as he fearlessly and steadfastly shoot an “I miss you” text to his other woman, right when I turn around for a few minutes. The one who dialed her number as soon as he drops me off at home and waves at me goodbye.

The one who even introduced the other woman as his best friend& knowing this, was an open invitation for him & her to spend more time together, all without ever being guilty (since best friends hang out, right?) The one whose lips I kissed, when in reality, I blatantly tasted hers. The one whose neck I smelled, but breathed in the scent of her perfume. The one whose hands I held, but his other one, I felt, was being held by her. The one who said “I love you” to me, but in the back of his mind, he was saying it to her too. 

And I thought, he loves me and I love him. It doesn’t matter if he has this other woman. I was chosen to be the main one. That’s what matters, isn’t it? Wrong. I was so young. I was so naive. I was so blind. I was an idiot. I was so ignorant. I shouldn’t have been the main one. I should have been the only one.

And I left. Oh hell yes, I left and moved on to bigger thing, moved on to the better things. Until this boy, once again, came knocking on my front door. The same door we were at when I told him maybe a million times, “I never want to see you, ever”.

But he’s here. Man, he’s here. What the hell is he doing here? I opened the door and just as you imagined, I welcomed him back into my house. And worse? My heart. 

And we started talking again, and started becoming one again. But this time, it was a lot different. It wasn’t the same no longer. And one day I woke up realizing something wasn’t right. That my gut feeling was telling me I am in this wrong place.

Then I realized, I was at this point of my life, I mindlessly fell back ‘in love’ with this same boy. The one who thought he was slick as he fearlessly and steadfastly shoot an “I miss you” text to me, right when his best friend turn around for a few minutes. The one who dialed my number as soon as he drops her off at home and waves at her goodbye.

The one who picked me up with his main woman’s car so we can go out on a date. The one whose lips she kissed, when in reality, she most likely tasted mine. The one whose neck she smelled, but breathed in the scent of my perfume. The one whose hands she held, but his other one, she felt, was being held by me. The one who said “I love you” to her, but in the back of his mind, he was saying it to me too.  Little did I know, she was the main one and I became the other woman. To be on both sides of the spectrum… 

- Carmela David (2009)