I saw a movie on TV recently, Brick Lane, about a girl from Bangladesh who lives her sister behind to come to London for an arranged marriage with a much older man. It was her yearn to see her sister again that got to me the most. She was robbed of her childhood the minute her mother died and somebody else decided her life for her.
She married a man she did not love, and you could see in the film the pure sadness and her soul slowly dying.
In one letter to her sister she says: "No one told me there are different kinds of love. The kind that starts deep and slowly wears away; that seems you will never use it up and then one day it is finished. Then there is the kind you do not notice at first but which adds a little bit to itself every day like an oyster makes a pearl, dream by dream, a jewel from the sand. That is the kind I have come to know".
I know my love for him is wearing away, finishing faster every time I see him. And I decided I do not want to see him again.
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