*The voice of a young man in love*
When we met she said she loved me the way I was. That she was comfortable with the little things I did. That she wouldn’t mind about money and expensive stuff. I did what she wanted ;
- Sent her Good morning/night texts
- Gave her hugs from behind
- Had deep/long conversations
- Took pics together
- Surprised her (even the little ones)
- Told her why I loved her
- Made time for her
- Cuddled and watched movies
- Gave her random kisses
- And most importantly, NEVER LIED!!!
Then time came where I wasn’t doing enough. She wanted much more than I had.
She complained of how low class I was, how poor I was, how she wanted me to be classy, how I was supposed to wear Eremenegildo and Desmond Merrion types of suits, Swarovski and Salvator types of shoes and take her to expensive hotels.
According to her, a man’s worth was still a significance degree determined by his income.
But all I had was just the little pocket money and savings my mum gave me.
So I couldn’t sustain the one I loved. Does it mean that love is what you see?
Is love meant for the rich?
I am just a young man in love.
I wanted her to be proud of me. Appreciate me for who I am and maybe grow together.
Then I learnt that we were different. From how we were raised to how we related with others.
It only takes 4 minutes to fall in love and the neurological effects are like those of cocaine.
But I had no chance with her. I had to walk out before I could lose myself in her. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing but I had no more to give.
I was just a young man in love.
*the voice of a young man in love*