It’s been a week since we broke up. She spent the weekend with a friend and came back with a vengeance, making me feel bad for feeling bad. I posted on Facebook about our breakup, looking for any consolation from my friends and family. I was a wreck and didn’t know where to turn. She got mad that I went public with it because her family can see it and she didn’t want them to find out that she had been cheating on me for most of our time together. After all, I was taking care of her and being good to her and they were happy that she had finally ended up with someone like me.
She made me feel guilty about venting, and told me she never wanted to speak with me again. I begged her and pleaded with her not to cut me off. I convinced her to let me talk to her a few times a week just to keep in touch and she finally accepted.
I should be the one who just walked away from her when I found out she was seeing someone else. When I learned it wasn’t brief but that it had been going on for 6 months of the year we were together, I should be the one to walk away and tell her never to talk to me again.
But I can’t. I’m weak for her. I loved her with all my heart, and any plans for my future included her. I had never been this close with anyone, and had never been so serious about something. I had never made all of my life’s decisions with someone else in mind. Where I’m moving, my school schedule, quitting my job so we can spend more time together while I’m in school until I moved closer to her. These are the things that have dominated my life for the past year.
My work friends and I don’t hang out anymore. My out of work friends are the same. I never really talked to anyone anymore. When my phone would go off, it was always her. Now it’s silence is a constant reminder that we’re no longer together. No body is perfect, nor is any relationship, but in my eyes this was as close to perfection as can be. She was very nearly everything I could ever want, and the things that were missing paled in comparison to the things that weren’t.
I wish I could hate her for what she’s done. She destroyed something beautiful. The text messages she sent him burn into my soul. I still have trouble picturing her saying those things to someone else while she was with me. I thought she loved me too. She still says she does, yet she wants nothing to do with me. That’s not what love is.
No matter how much she’s hurt me. No matter how much she’s angered me. No matter what she’s doing now. I still love her. I still think about her and think about how many good times we had together. All those weekends together. All the time I spent with her family. Our dream vacation together. Our weekend getaways. The intimate nights we shared. I could do anything with her and it would have made me happy just being with her. Just hearing her tell me she loves me. Just staring into her beautiful blue eyes.
I’m still hanging on to hope that it won’t work out with her new man. That he’ll disappoint her like she expects him to. That he won’t even come to be with her at all and that she’ll hate him for it. I still hope that in time she’ll come around, and won’t be mad at me anymore for the things I did post-breakup that upset her. I hope that one day I can win her back because I think I can eventually forgive her for what she did to me, and I think I can learn to trust her again. I wanted the feelings of the past 11 months to be the same feelings I have until the day I die. It was a fairy tale in my eyes. I found true love, and I want her back.