Chapter Twenty Six: Memory

"After all these years, she was still the one."

That statement was repeatedly being played inside his mind, preoccupying most of his thoughts that affects his ability to conform with preconceived standards of the proper way to effectively use the camera sticks, especially in allowing the projected lens to take in the moments that unfold into the broad capture of the circumstances before it. He was, obviously, extremely affected by some definite form of jealousy.

"She was beautiful, and she was mine. It has always been that way. Please help me find her. Let us free her from the Sinister Agent that holds her as hostage."

He no longer recall the reason why the piece of this memory keeps on repeating day by day, inside his consciousness, even though he already initiated his withdrawal with his connection to the projected sword where there is no danger to be seen, and no threat to be sensed in and around the area. He wants to get away from the duty to the sword as far as he wanted to curtail this emotion, a nagging feeling.

"I would say I love her, but she was in love with someone else. But whatever the bitter circumstance might present itself, I am already prepared to love her beyond selfish possessiveness."

It was clear to him that he was affected by this particular situation beyond words can tell; it was his love for her that fuels the jealousy inside of him, and he cannot be contented with the fact that it was his very own heart who've won her over, but the presence of the fact that someone as worthy of his own wanted to love her, as well.

And that is the source of his own conflict; overthinking has slowly killing his own sanity, and he could not contain it any longer. There is a need to act, quickly, and with no further delay.

"I know that the camera sticks never lie; mine return the calls of her own projector sword. The projected images return the intensity of my feelings; I know it to be true because my very heart can feel it!"

The longer he wishes to withdraw from these difficult thoughts, the more he wanted to love her; better and louder than anybody could capably love her! He wanted to show to everyone that she was his, and his alone. Nothing else matters but to gain the assurance of exclusivity, and this is the greatest insanity when love becomes crazy, and deep, and self-centered beyond reproach.

But, who can blame him?

"I am telling you all about her because I trust you, dude! She was the love of my dreams. I never felt this crazy and intense."

And that piece of projected memory made him cringe alot, bacause that is how he will describe his own love for her, too. But the main problem is that his own projector sword does not return his feelings; there was no connection at all that will hint that his feelings will be reciprocated by the woman of his dreams. Neither his camera sticks nor his projector lens could guarantee him and appease his mind and heart of the all the jealousy he feels, because he already knew of the details of the brutal truth.

That she didn't love him at all.

"I love her."

He cannot forgo any of the distraction he feels. It is becoming stronger and unbearable as days becomes weeks, and weeks becomes months. The excruciating journey beckons of selfishness and extrene regret, the awful pain of an unrequited love.

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The Chapter is sponsored by Lacoste watch.