Love is a strong misleading word. The idea of being vulnerable to another person is scary and something to take seriously. I wish I had known who you really were before it was too late, but I can’t regret it now. How was I supposed to know? I can’t blame myself. The only person I can blame is you, but I guess it takes two to tango. I wish you would get out my dreams, that’s the only place you live now that you’re gone; in my mind. You consumed me in every way possible. You know all my secrets and how to hurt me, but who knew you would be the type? The type to abuse my love and twist it in a vine filled with thorns. Six months in and your true colors came to life and I see you for the first time. Betrayal was what you said you weren’t doing. “I didn’t cheat on you or anything,” he said, “I just don’t want a relationship anymore, but it’s not betrayal.”
“Then what is it? You’re breaking our commitment to one another,” I said. He couldn’t give me an answer. All the words foamed in his mouth with lies, the lies of reasons why it didn’t work out. Then when he realized he wasn’t making any sense, he blamed me for everything. The sweet boy i’d met was coiling up like a cobra and striking even though unprovoked. “Who are you?” I asked, “Because you’re not the boy who I gave my heart to?” He paused.
“Sometimes I think i’m the devil too,” he said. Then his sentences carried on with more lies and angry irrational talk until my pointer finger pressed the little red button to end it all and I saw his face no more. The world shuddered as the thunder rolled. “How Ironic?” I thought as hot tears rolled down my face and my body shuddered. Was it all a dream? Nothing was perfect but wasn’t I worth it? How could he do this on our sixth month anniversary? That night I knew that I wanted to choose to be happy without someone else and all their problems. No one else would ever have my heart and I would never have another boyfriend or get married. The pain of him wrapped around my soul and he broke my heart like glass hitting the floor. I laid in my bed and wondered if being a lesbian was easier. “Probably,” I thought to myself and smiled.