She wasn't Greek, but an infuriating woman from Gaul or France. I forget if they were the same place or not. It has been too long since I bothered to check and she burned my journals along with my house after a night with another woman. My defense, she screamed she never wanted to see me again a few years prior and last I heard, she was with a rich man.672Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrqB8GiwVTg
I chased her down to the river where I proposed-and she screamed she would never marry me as long as she lived (which was forever). Her makeup was smeared on her hands as she sobbed, cursing my name. She sunk into the grass in a beautiful mess, and I sunk next to her. Her nails were digging into her skin, trying to draw blood. I think I sighed and pulled her into me where she sobbed. She kept daring me to say I loved her when I could easily replace her like that, how she was my wife, my love.
I reminded her softly on how she slapped the offer into the river.
She hit my chest, pushing me away. "You know I didn't mean it!"
"Then why did you leave?"
"You are a pest!" she hissed. "You smother me! You hover close to me as if I'll run away-"
"You do! You did!"
"Because of you! You-you-" she turned into another mess, turning away from me. "Oh, Kyrillos, you stupid Greek. How dare you not know I love you."
We married that day, and divorced the next year.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
