Second Love3 mins 12.7K 3 mins 12.7K
When my heart broke for the second time, I went on an extensive shopping spree. On that day, if I were to be given a choice between whether the time is a boon or a bane, I would close my eyes and tick on the boon. Why? One might wonder. So here it goes.
I was leaving for a trip with my dad two days later and fortunately, I didn't carry a lot of clothes back home from where I currently stay. Furious due to my ignorance but excited (or so they thought) to go on the trip where the temperature was going to be reduced to 1 degree Celsius, both the mother and the father started screaming their brains out unbeknownst to the fact that their beloved daughter was just so disinterested in life and fed up of going through guilt and regret of the past few months but looked forward to the trip to find herself again, as a means of self-discovery.
The night of my heartbreak, my roommate texts me to tell me she'd seen the exact pair of trousers in one of the stores that I had been obsessing over. Amidst the wrenching pain in my heart, I smiled big. Acting as a cherry on top, my father calls saying I could use the credit card and buy whatever I wanted. The sun was shining on me and I could see it.
Shoes are my most prized possession. They are at the top of my love list. Usually, if I wanted to buy shoes, it had to be either winning a challenge such as doing well on a test or distressed shoes or rejoicing me turning a year older. But this time, they coerced me into buying a pair of shoes because they thought I was going to die of hypothermia if I don't wear proper shoes which is exactly what was going to happen the previous time we went for a trip to where it snowed.
I made a mental note of the "necessary commodities" to survive a bitterly cold winter and started shuffling through warm jackets, jeans and hopped from store to store to find the perfect pair shoes to bring home. My best friend walked by my side, helping me choose and shop, nodding to my ranting, occasionally hitting my head for being so stupid. Again. But when he offered me a cigarette in a street that connects the two roads of the city, I couldn't resist it. Holding my bags in one hand and the silver-grey smoke waltzing out of my mouth, I took long breaths and bid him Sayonara.