That Unwanted Face

I stood there looking at the view which my room provided me with.... The Paris skyline, lit with the colorful lights in the night, along with the starry heaven above, was the best view I had ever seen. I was living my life finally... away from all the drama my life had offered me a few years ago.

The view ahead of me, made me realize that I had taken the right decision in my life... that is when, I saw the billboard shine extravagantly with the neon lights, revealing the picture of the man I so hated.

It was an unwanted sight of an unwanted face.

Just his picture was enough to make me want to kill him. We were never in a relationship, but still, every time his name or any topic to do with him was raised, it angered me, more than before.

He just broke my heart.... Well, that is a polite way of saying what he did to me... he crushed it under his feet, till it had become like a fine powder, and then, scattered the powder everywhere.

I had learnt, over the years, to forget about him, but whenever anyone spoke about him, these feelings erupted out involuntarily and I could simply do nothing other than leave the room.

The picture on the billboard sent shivers down my spine, reminding me of the last words he told me- "Trust me... you feel you're getting away from this so called 'drama'... but just wait and watch mon amour... just wait and watch while you can, because sooner or later, you will find yourself in the same 'drama' and you will not be able to do anything about it."

Well ladies and gentlemen, I present to you- the one and only, Antoine Griezmann. The sweet, innocent, charismatic, chivalric, Antoine Griezmann that the world portraits and believes him to be...

The Golden Boy of France ...

Ha, MY FOOT!

Wondering why I am this pissed, even though he was not in a relationship with me? Well what can I say ... you do expect your best friend to support you, even if hell breaks out. I thought he would be there for me when I needed him the most, but instead, he flipped out, and said that to me the last time we spoke, and just abruptly left my house, slamming the door behind him.

The problem which caused this strain in our friendship?

Multiple...now that I think of it.

But the one that finished us, was my decision to leave Madrid and settle in Boston, to finish my degree from Harvard.

For me, establishing myself was as important as keeping my relationships with my family, friends, especially him. Antoine was the most important person to me. He always stood up for me and believed in me. Hence, when he said that, it hurt me more than what one would feel when being stabbed multiple times in the heart.

I wondered how he was. I knew he was performing well on the pitch and I also knew that he was transferring to Atletico de Madrid. But knowing Antoine, I was concerned, because clearly, he was not a massive supporter of 'change'.

I never watched his games since I left Madrid, because of my stubbornness, but I had friends who were quite involved in La Liga or should I say, football in general. Some of them were aware of my situation with Antoine and hence, they would keep telling me the scores and jump up and down, specifically when Antoine scored. They even did his stupid celebratory dances.

I never showed any excitement because I always told them I was rooting for the other team.

However, deep within, I supported him and celebrated his victory because that's what good friends do. And after the gang would go home, I often found a smile on my face thinking about his goal.

My anger would be replaced by happiness, pride and satisfaction knowing that he had managed to live his dream. And that's when sorrow would engulf me into its arms and leave me with the thought- if only he felt the same way as I did.

And whether I liked or not, anger would once again fill my heart and so, the vicious cycle continued.

By now, this seemed as a shield that I had built for myself, to stop me from breaking down and present myself as a strong person to the world.

To be honest, though I said was angry, I really don't know if that is true....

It had been four years since that fight, and I didn't know if I wanted to linger this fight between us anymore. I wanted him to be a part of my life, especially when I had finally gotten what I wanted from life. Everything was in place except us.

Next morning, I ate my breakfast happily, while looking at the view outside my living room window yet again, and getting lost in pleasant thoughts that my mind offered to me. My roommate came running out of her room in her pj's and messy hair. She was shouting at the top of her voice and running helter-skelter.

"We are late! We have to go for the cake tasting or whatever we had planned today.", said Mary- my roommate/bff/oldest friend/my soul sister.

She knew everything about me and I knew everything about her. We had no secrets. She was getting married to her college sweetheart- Justin Beaumont. He was French. Hence, they were getting married in the very heart of France- Paris, the city of love.

Her words pulled me out of my thoughts. Soon we left the apartment and the stunning view to try different cakes. Even though it was not my wedding, I was super excited for Mary. Today, however, I was even more excited because finally I was getting to meet the best man... the person with whom I would walk down the aisle, as planned. He was going to meet us at the cake shop.

We reached there. It was a ridiculously small and old shop. But it was beautiful. It had flower pot hanging and lovely music playing. To top it all off, was the tantalizing smell of the baked goods in the shop. Preventing myself from getting weak at the knees because of the smell, I entered the shop, where Justin and his friend were already seated.

"There you are. I thought you guys got lost!", exclaimed Justin, laughing and getting up to greet the two of us, while we were mesmerised by the beauty of the shop.

He first greeted me and then, without any hesitation, stole a kiss from Mary. She smiled and went red. The site of this made me giggle. Sitting at the table meant for four, was another man, who I believe was the best man. I went over to greet him and take my seat next to him.

I extended a hand and said- "Hi, I am Veronica, the maid of...."

I stopped looking at the man in front of me. It was that same unwanted face which was trying to crawl its way back into my life.

Did I want him back? Did I want the drama that accompanied him?

That was all I could think of right now.

I wanted to face him, fix things with him, but the only thing that I was able to do was to slap him right across his perfect face, take an about turn and leave the shop, hoping to never see him again. I felt bad for doing this to Mary, but I couldn't stand being in the same room as him. Not now, not ever. It was, probably, for the best that we had never spoken again or met again because, it would have ended by killing one of us, for sure.

Hence, I had to get away from that unwanted face for my survival... for our individual survival.

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