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Why I hate Middle Class Women

"I endured this pain day after day, drowned in the ocean of tears that weren't allowed to leave my eyes. I held on for long, but they didn't love to see that, they stepped upon my head, content to watch me drown in the emotional mess they caused." Seven relationships and all were doomed from the start. The same issues and the same outcome, all the girls he loved left him, cheated on him, stabbed him in the back. Was he hexed? Was he really the problem? Why did they never last? Chang Wu didn't know. All he knew was that, they were breaking his heart to smaller pieces every time they walked out of his life because he couldn't 'afford' them. He'd tried everything to the extent everyone called him a simp for women who wouldn't even do half of what he'd done for them. 'Why were all middle class women the same?' Why hadn't he met one that wouldn't push the burden of financial responsibilities on his shoulders. The more he thought of it, the more he bore hate, until he decided to give up on them, and aim for something higher.  Dating a rich woman was his next step. As impossible as it sounded and difficult to achieve, he thought the woman on the magazine cover that caught his attention would actually love him, not because of money because she already had that. There were problems, he had to live falsely to catch her eye and watch out for potential threats to avoid the truth from getting exposed, but how long would he pretend to be the opposite of what he truly was? How long would he lie? How long would he continue to live in fear? And most importantly, how would he put an end to the facade without getting his dream woman hurt?

SofarLunar · Urban
Not enough ratings
152 Chs

Part II

Staring at the empty shelves with sunken eyes, Xin felt a sudden pain in his heart. He blinked many times, rubbed his eyes, hoping it was all a dream, a fabrication of his imagination, but he had to accept it was real. Everything happening was in the present. All the beer bottles in the bar were gone. Not a single trace of any left. Not in the store, not anywhere. They were all stolen while he stayed overnight at a hospital, leaving the bar in the hands of people who left without paying, and those who took from the shelves without thinking twice.

His mind plummet downward into less and less light, and darkness beyond measure. What was he going to do now? Where would he start from? How would he recover from so much loss? 

It was too much. All of it. The darkness grew darker; the agony grew sharper; all of it seemed to only grow in strength, and he wondered if things could ever get better again.