The Day I Was Invited To The Wedding Of The Woman I Loved

When I was around twenty, twenty-one years old, I worked in a store where there was a beautiful girl — and, when I say beautiful, she was really beautiful — with a frowning face. She managed to be as beautiful as she was angry, which messed with my head. But the fact that she had a personality very similar to mine made us immediately have strong feelings for each other.

And they were not good feelings.

The truth is that we hated each other. We fought almost daily for six or seven months without realizing that this whole hatred was just a way of camouflaging what we really felt. Until, eventually, a series of events brought us closer… And finally, we managed to declare our love for each other.

Unfortunately, as they say, all good things…

In just over a month, we had already separated.

We engaged in a “hateful” relationship again. It was the only way that we could achieve any stability. But the fact that I lived one of the best months of my life with her tortured me. After a few weeks of “hating her” again, I decided to try to go back. Did not work. I moved away. Then it was her turn to approach. I, as proud as she was, didn’t take it. She walked away. We stayed like that for months… That turned into years… I left the store; we stopped living… And, during the last two years before the events that I will narrate here, we hardly talk.