Promises are not meant to be broken, Promises are meant to be kept. I feel like a five year old child, being told they can have a 99 after a day at the beach. Yet my hands aren't covered in drizzled melted whipped ice cream, and sand isn't clinging to the residue as it starts to form some kind of magical adhesive.
Yet you left. Packed up, moved on, hit the road. No matter how you describe it leaving never sounds beautiful. It's a word that's holds so much context and meaning, but yet never really brings happiness. Leaving - the word should be demolished, beheaded but it never will, too many people do it daily. Sadly.
I feel like those brand new crisp trainers that your lonely aunt that lives with five cats gets you for Christmas, which you pretend go like because you pity her too much. But as soon as she leaves you chuck them to one side, like a dog with an old bone.
I don't get why you left Ben and I. Was soaking up the sun in your cheap primark bikini such a good offer?
The sun is going to go and the rain clouds will suddenly form.
That primark bikini - the straps will soon snap, it was £5.50 for heavens sake! It won't last you forever.
Rodrigo was that his name? The man with a jawline only god could create. He'll leave soon, who wants primark when you can have coco Chanel! Then you'll realise how shit leaving can be.
"I've met this guy on match.com , look at how dreamy he is! He's got a villa in Brazil. I'm going to book my flight, I'll leave tomorrow."
That's what you did, got an idea in your head and ran for the hills with it.
I looked at his profile later that night.
Tall, I guess around six foot, with a frame a footballer would be proud of. Stubble that lightly dusted around the base of his jaw and chin. Standing proudly in front of a bar 'Rodrigo's Hut' dazzling brightly behind him.
His tanned skin made his pale pink buttoned up shirt, somehow pop! Or it could be the fact his tarzaned chest hair is ready to escape from a slight pick at his circular button.
I could see why she'd travel to the other side of the world to be with him. I was jealous of her. I was besotted by him, intoxicated by a long glance of a strangers profile picture. I think that's why I was so angry, you was going to live a life you didn't deserve.
