Chapter 8 | In Hindsight

A rough compilation of stories, inspired by true events
previous chapter Chapter 7 | Valentine's Day

In hindsight maybe she was a bit naive.
Maybe she thought that all blonde blue-eyed babes would treat her like princesses, sweep her off her feet, carry her into their yachts, glass slippers and all.
Maybe she had subconsciously turned a blind eye when he said he'll "be back soon" but walked out carrying an overnight bag.
The gold locket she received; 22 carats of lies engraved.

And now she sits in the same cafe 365 days later.
On a leap day where women can propose to men and if they refused the man was obliged to give her 12 pairs of gloves to hide her naked ring finger.

Apparently babies born on this day are especially gifted.
And oh she wished for that same magic act right now.
For him to bump into her, full of regret, reasons and most of all, an apology.

But in hindsight she wished she'd been more attentive, more forgiving, and more available.
Then maybe she would've gotten less of his tantrums, less of his absence.

Uncontrollable wild fires start off with a careless flick of a match.
And it would burn through the night and take down the walls they had so sensitively built.
Walls they thought were built on rocks but turned out to be scoria.
Draining out the crass fights into a pool.
In hindsight maybe she should've tried harder.

But he wasn't there today.
Not at the same corner table she last sat across from him, clutching a short black
which he never drank.

But everyone who worked there recognised her as the girl who was left drowning in her own tears long after he left.

But this time she picked herself up. A little more wiser, a little more collected, a little less hopeful.