It was over.

“I am not dating, not even the curious type. With me there is no point. Sorry,” Said Lira, through Personal
Message. Leo read the message. He was devastated. He slumped at the chair he was sitting. He was not
expecting this. He thought Lira and he were O.K. Could it be that she burstbecause he coaxed her? He
would never know as Lira did not reply, saying that he was hurt, yet Leo could not do anything.

Leo could feel the veins of his temple throbbing hard, and he could also feel his heartbeat beat faster, as
though he had been drinking lots of caffeinated drinks.

Bedtime started. Staring at the ceiling, he was still thinking of her message. Word for word, especially the
last word, sorry. To him it sounded hollow, an ostensible block of comforting word but devoid of meaning;
yet, on the whole, the message punctured his entire being.

When he thought of so poignant a memory which Lira and he shared, he cried; for many years he did not
cry to a lost beloved. Then something interesting had happened: he felt anger and resentment rising.

A poison that creeps downward from the brain to his heart sets in.

He thought of editing her message like the double negative and run-on sentences she had committed so
as to geteven with her. But that would be petty, childlike, and immature, so he gave up the plan. As the
night went by, he would still think of her, with those occasional crying of course, with an additional loving
you is a delusion shouting inside his head. Commented [A1]: Describe how Leo’s anger is rising.

His ruminations continued until 3:40 in the morning, the next day. Realizing that sleeping was a futile
attempt, Leo jumped out of his bed, took his pen and paper, sat on the chair stationed at the study area,
and began writing, a letter, a supposed letter of love, but it, as Lira’s message did not go quite well to our
hapless lover, he wrote a letter expressing his disillusionment. It goes like this:

12/27/2018

Lira,

Loving you is a delusion. Thinking of your face, your smile, your fast pace walking is a delusion
which my mind conjures. I thought we were O.K., that we eat together, that we joked together,
that you shared some information about you, but I guess that was an illusion. In retrospect, your
actions are only for courtesy sake, and I am deluded once again.

My emotions take the greater part of me. Yes, those were my weakness, and I have thought I
suppress those but no. On the contrary, they festered, growing with illusionary joy and elation.
Seeing you, as what I have said earlier, brought me happiness which was only a hallucination; as
you know, love or infatuation, however you call it, brings a temporary high, like a drug.

Alas, that was only temporary, for I received your message. Realization begins to hit me, as if a
truck containing Kilotons of TNT struck me. I have felt like you are a heartless human being. But
even so, you have aspirations, a noble attitude, which is, to me unshakable. I admire and respect
that. Reflecting last night, I am selfish, selfish of keeping you beside me, while you are suffering
from distraction.

I guess, loving you is a delusion.

 Regards,

Leo

Finishing his work Leo felt catharsis: that flushing of anger and resentment had been drained out of his
brain and heart, cleansing his organs of negative thoughts. Now, he looks forward to a new day.