In another life

You know what's sad about love? It never lasts. I've tried everything I could to get him to stay. I gave so much effort into our relationship. I gave and gave and gave until there was nothing left to give.  He took and took and took until there was nothing else for him to take from me. He never loved me, but I was so desperate for someone to love me. Someone to hold me and whisper that everything will be okay when I had nightmares that resulted in me waking up in a cold sweat, crying my eyes out, terrified. I wanted the type of love that you find in cheesy rom-coms or the love you find between two characters in a perfectly scripted book, but he wasn’t capable of that.

  At first that's what I got. He held me close when I had those horrible nightmares, brought me flowers and candy when I was sad or on my period to help me feel better, we danced together in the rain or when the nights were slow and all we had was each other. I thought that would last forever; but I was wrong. I was so very wrong. I knew something was wrong when he started paying more attention to his phone than he did me, or how he promised to come home early so that we could spend some time together.

  Instead of him coming home early he would have me worried to the point of thinking I was sick because he couldn't show up until 2 in the morning. We fought more often than we did before. Mostly about how much I missed him and wanted to spend time with him but he would say that he was busy and doesn't have time for me anymore. I remember just after a fight we had, i was so tired that i ended up crying and walking out the front door and into the driver's seat of my car and driving to my friends house without realizing it.

It must have been so embarrassing to knock on my friend's door at 2 in the morning, soaking wet from the rain that's pouring down, and my mascara running down my cheeks. 

Venting to her about how I stayed up all night waiting for him to get home, about the fights and how our relationship wasn't the same anymore. No more dancing at night, no more chocolates and flowers, no more of him pulling me close and whispering about how it's only a nightmare and that it's fake and not real. 

I would be lying if I said that I stopped loving him, because in truth, I would go back and fix everything about me, my hair, my personality, the way I walked, the way I stood, even the way I talked. Just so he would look at me the same way he looks at her.

The moment I knew there was another girl involved was when I called him and asked when he was going to be home and another girl's voice called his name. I knew from that moment that he was avoiding my question when I asked who she was and he went silent.

That night when he came home late with a lipstick stain that was most definitely not the color of lipstick I wear on his shirt collar or the cheap smell of another's perfume. So I did what every girl does when she believes her man is cheating. When he fell asleep in the other room, I snuck in there and took his phone. 

I knew he was cheating on me before I took his phone, but I needed clarification; I needed to know. I unlocked his phone and started to go through his messages until I came across a girl named Devi. Clicking on her profile and going through their messages. That's when I was 100 percent sure he was cheating. The hearts, cute nicknames, everything. Everything we use to text each other, he was texting another girl the same thing. 

It felt as if someone dug their hand into my chest and ripped out my heart and crushed it into a million pieces. I felt my whole world fall apart, I began to question everything in our relationship. Was it all a mask? Did he ever love me? But I never broke up with him, I know I should have but I didn't. Was it because I secretly wished that he would leave her? Was it because I thought he would change? He never changed, not at all.

The late night calls to my friends, crying, sobbing even, telling them all about the arguments. I remember them trying to get me to break up with him but i can't, i couldn't. No matter how many times I tried to convince myself that I hated him and that I didn't love him, my heart still longed for him. It hurt but I wasn’t desperate, no I was in love. And love is a very dangerous feeling, a very dangerous game to play. I knew he wouldn't change, I knew he wouldn't just leave her. It’s not that simple. And when I finally realized that he didn’t love me anymore was the night I stayed up crying my eyes out about him.

  About a guy that I let into my life, into my heart. He just walked into my life and completely left me crying on my bed. He was the reason my friends were trying to get me to get out of bed and do something productive, he was the reason that I stayed up countless nights crying my eyes out. He was the reason I stopped eating. 

My friends told me to give up on him and that he was not worth it. But no matter how many times they’ve told me that, no matter how many times they tried to comfort me. I still sat late at night on my window side, gazing up at the moon and the stars and thinking “maybe in another life”.