And She Said, "I'm not physically attracted to you"

In a world where finding true love feels like the prize, I — a random dude — had, once upon a time, summoned the tough courage to take my chances and ask my absolute crush to be my girlfriend. Why make a fuss about nothing? A girl becoming your girlfriend should be so ordinary a thing for it to matter, right? But this lady who so effortlessly commanded feelings that border on attraction is the reason I — the rejected guy — have decided to trap this thought, though painful and makes memory, a fresh source of hurt, on a wall to be read. Maybe, just maybe, it would make more sense why whatever it was that seemed to bloom between us would die a most unexplainably tragic death. That thing — the one that died — had started off so well one would think we would be walking down the isle in a not too distant time from when we began talking. I promise, these thoughts aren't figments of my imagination because right from the moment I got her number to the chats that ensued, that thing — for fear of labeling it a talking stage — had a promise that my hope clung to like a lifeline. We had talked, shared our histories of past relationships that failed; relationships that had turned her into a cynic where romantic relationships are concerned. But seeing how our communication felt like an exciting ping-pong of the tennis game, one would think she was about to be won over to the side peopled by staunch believers in all things love. This talking stage, ooops! I finally labeled it, lasted two months. Two months of daily doses of hope, two months of becoming part of another's person's world because, in your mind, there existed a world where you and said person were doing life together. The dream of forever I was working so hard to come to reality, like most dreams of the night, started fizzling out. The distance, that unexpected drifting away, all started with repeated monosyllables coming in as responses. Never did I suspect the first hints were flashing right before my eyes. Worry laced with concern made me ask her if there was a problem. A question to which she supplied a bland no for an answer. Days later, silence had made the distance wider. It was clear to me how chats can get useless when a person finds it hard to ascertain the emotions that come with typed words. So, I proposed a physical meet. Twenty-four hours later, I'm standing in front of her, with our eyes locked and my mind ready for the tough talk, I throw the question again. Thankfully, this time, words poured out like a dam that had burst. Many things were said but one stood out, "you're a nice guy, (that classic prelude to a disappointing reply, many guys know this) but physically, I do not find you attractive and that is why this can never work". The words left an air of finality, a no-going back tone clinging to each of them like a tight-fitting cloth to the body. My heart sank to a new depth of pain because hope died that day. Two months that had felt like a lifetime came to an end in that moment when truth was a sharp knife cutting through guts, I bled.Though time has put space between now and then, but memory almost always keeps taking that stroll to the past and the hurt comes alive again like it never left. The hurt I am feeling is as real like the love I felt, everything is real here.

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