Love is...

Okay,so today we are going  to do some creative writing.
You know something from my head, a fictitious story. Okay, here I go...

That little,jealous woman who left my boyfriends room number on my desk is the
genesis of the following events.
I knew that we were no longer what we used to be but I was not in the business of looking for evidence. I was not ready to face my truth yet.

However,when the evidence does come up, well,how would I ignore it?
I showed up at Hotel Pronto at 7.00pm.Determined, I pressed button number 2 which would take me to second floor. And then,there I was, infront of the room knowing all too well that once inside,that was it.
I swiped the key card on room 37 and voila,I had crossed the line.
Lying on the bed was a beautiful picture.
The woman comfortably settled in the arms of the man. She was too relaxed, completely letting herself go in the man's arms. The man,though asleep still tightly held the lady,the protectiveness with which he held her was sweet.
Only problem,the man? He was my man..My Paul.
I tried to remember such a time with me and all that came to my mind was a blank slate. Sure,there were good times but not this type of serenity.
 I just stood and watched these lovebirds sleep,my man periodically kissing her forehead,her neck,her hands.
I stood and watched as my man tightened his grip on the woman.
I knew this girl,this woman who had seemingly given MY man what I had not managed to give him apparently...
I knew her....

(...To be continued)