“I love you.”
”I love you too.”
Such small words for having such great meaning. They feel worthless now.
We had vowed to spend the rest of our life together. So where did our life go?
Where did you go?
I hate that when I look back I can’t find a single thing wrong with our situation. Our relationship was good. I loved you. Did you ever love me back?
I remember when we first met on the train. I thought you looked cute, but I was too scared to approach you. I thought there was no way you could reciprocate my feelings. But then you talked to me first. You saw me. You made me feel loved.
I thought having no one who loved me felt like a living hell. It feels so much worse to have you rip it away.
Every good memory I have, you’re there.
You’re there in the bad ones, too. Comforting me. I miss that.
When we had first started dating, I worried you would find someone else. Someone better. When you proposed I thought I could stop worrying.
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You didn’t even bother to confront me in person.
I remember when I called you in a panic after skimming the divorce papers you sent to my office. I asked if it was a prank. You told me no.
I tried to call my mom the next day, hungover and about ready to drive over a cliff. My mom’s been dead for seven years.
I wonder if you knew how it would affect me.
I have so many emotions flooding my stomach, like a handful of dollar-store medicines that aren’t supposed to mix.
What a sour feeling.
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This is why I didn’t want to talk to you on that train. I knew you would get tired of me eventually.
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I never thought married people had to worry about rejection. Asking’s supposed to be the hardest part, right?
Were you afraid I would reject you, too?
Were we fighting the same feelings? When did we stop?
Thinking about everything now, feels like the start of insanity.
You left me. Now, I’m left to figure out if it was you who changed, or if it was me.
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