Unbearable by planet p
Disclaimer I don't own Resistiré or any of its characters.
Diego Moreno suppressed a heavy sigh. A week ago, he had simply been a man who'd worked for most of his adult life as a salesman and tailor in a men's clothing store, until at 30, he had found out that his fiancée had been embezzling him, which had led to their breakup. Now, he was back to living in his parents' house and spending time with his childhood friends, Ferchu and Paco. After the debacle with his former fiancée and the whole disaster that had been his engagement to her, he had closed off except to his closest of friends and family members.
He had held little hope of meeting another woman and of starting a family any time soon, but he had consoled himself in the knowledge that giving his heart to a woman such as he had to his fiancée would take time, and that to throw himself back into a relationship would be foolish and pointless and potentially dangerous for both he and the woman who chose to enter into a relationship with him. After his engagement had ended, he'd been bitter and angered, he had really been hurt, and if he was to throw himself into a fresh relationship he knew that it would be to get over that hurt, he knew that he would not be thinking straight, he would not be himself, and that would not be fair on the woman when she found out that he was not the person she had first thought he was. He would be trying to get over his past pains and hurts and would try to pretend that everything was wonderful and fine, when it wasn't and he was still suffering from the same hurt he had not given himself time to face up to and move on from.
He would be sending the wrong impression and giving out a false image.
There was also the potential that he would end up walking into another bad relationship because of his desperation to forget his fiancée and for everything to be okay again, there was the possibility that he would end up lying to himself merely because that way he could put aside his hurt for a little while and pretend he was fine.
That, he had decided, was something that he wholly did not want. He gave up dreaming of a loving wife and of two or three loving children; he gave up dreaming of the holidays they would take in the summers and the laughter and smiles that he would be his to enjoy and cherish.
That was a week ago.
Today, he was as miserable as he had been those couple of days ago. Coming back to his parents' house, he had met a beautiful, compassionate woman. Her name was Julia and he had begun to believe that she was perfect; she was perfect for him, she was everything that he was looking for and hoping so desperately for, and more. They had had a beautiful, magical time together; a time full of promise, but also full of sadness when he had learned that Julia Malaguer Podestá was engaged to be married and could never be his.
It had hurt all the more to know that Julia had been as hurt as he was, to know that she had felt the same connection, the same spark for him, that he had felt for her, but that the reality of their different circumstances had decided, in the end, to force them apart just as they had found each other.
He would never see Julia again and, he told himself, he would never love another woman or give his heart away again, either. He could not bear to be hurt again, or to hurt another that way, too.