He repeatedly asked me whether she was ok for him. The type of question that I knew he needed no answers, a question he asked for the sake of asking. The exhilaration and all, obviously normal for those currently with somewhat content heart. The pleasure of sharing blissful personal matters with someone they thought they were close with.

Ah, those two lovebirds. Flying together across the bright and peaceful sky, like there will be no thunder and rain. “When we get married, do come to our wedding”, he exclaimed, by chance suddenly one day. “What kind of a question is that? Of course I will!”, I responded, masking the loathe with a perfectly crafted smile.

Alas, rain and thunder were bound to arrive. They had no shelter, not even a branch on a shaded tree. Thus their plans for a holy matrimony dissolved like a sandcastle beaten by a soft wave. And the beach was again, flat.

“I’m sorry for you”, I uttered, physically reaching out my hands for a friend in need.

For deep inside my dark heart, a voice whispered, “If I can’t get her, then nobody will”

Then there was a smirk, somewhere.