5.10.24

In the grand ballrooms of yesteryears, amidst the swirl of waltzing couples, there stood me, heart aflutter with hopes of being cherished. Adorned in my finest frocks, locks entwined with ribbons of satin, yet beneath the façade of elegance lurked a gnawing emptiness, a harbored yearning for something deeper, something elusive.

My beloved, a gallant figure with eyes as vast as the ocean, was the object of my affection. Yet, in his adoration, I sensed a shadow, a void where his words of admiration should reside. He spoke of beauty in hushed tones, but his words, like echoes in the cavern in my chest, never found their way to me. Instead, they adorned the lips of others, leaving me to question my place in his world. A convenience he no longer wanted to nurture.

But it wasn’t just his neglect of my soul that weighed heavily upon me; it was his obsession with my physical form, a relentless desire for me to be smaller, to fit into a mold that he deemed acceptable. His gaze lingered not on the curve of my smile or the sparkle in my eyes but on the numbers that flashed upon the scale, a constant reminder of my inadequacy in his eyes.

I found myself shrinking, not just in body but in spirit, desperate to meet his expectations, to earn his fleeting affection. And yet, even in those moments of intimacy, when our bodies intertwined in passion, I couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that his desire for me was nothing more than a primal urge, lacking any deeper connection or appreciation.

In the language of courtly love, I penned verses of longing, each word a silent plea for recognition in a world that seemed indifferent to my existence. I longed to be loved for the entirety of who I was, to be cherished not for the curves of my form but for the essence of my being. Yet, my verses lay abandoned, lost in the labyrinth of his indifference.

For in matters of the heart, comparisons are the shadows that suffocate affection, leaving behind a residue of bitterness and doubt. They cast a shadow over love, leaving behind a trail of insecurity and doubt. And so, I yearned for a love that transcended the bounds of comparison, a love that saw me not as a mere reflection of another’s beauty but as a masterpiece in my own right.

I sought solace in the arms of a love that saw beyond the veil of comparison, where beauty was not a fleeting whisper but a timeless melody, where my essence was not just acknowledged but celebrated. Yet, in the depths of my longing, I wondered if such a love existed beyond the confines of my dreams