My life was beautiful; it was perfect in every way possible. I felt invincible, proud, secure, and blessed. A few moons ago, I experienced the most brutal, unimaginable, shocking event in my life. I felt my heart shred and liquefy instantly into a sea of oblivion. My brain convulsed and froze; my thoughts were an aposiopesis of the purest form, a series of disjointed feelings and words relegated into the limbo of lost words.
I lay motionless, trying to fathom why and how this could have happened.
I couldn't believe that she could do this to me. Were my feelings not considered? Did she not know how I felt? "How could she?" were the three words that kept ringing in my head. She knew how I felt, she knew everything, and still, she went ahead and did that dastardly deed.
Once she started, she couldn't stop, and before she knew it, she had gotten in too deep to make any amends. I could see her guilt-ridden face masking her surreptitious smile. She could have stopped to think about it, but she didn't. With conscious callousness and obduration, she forged ahead, one bite at a time, until it was over. She relished every bit of it and looked unapologetic.
She made a perfunctory attempt to apologize, but it oozed insincerity and apathy.
I was livid and incredibly hurt, but I loved her too much to hold a grudge. I have forgiven her, but the question I will always have is... How could she eat my biryani?
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