He Said I Was His World — But He Meant It Temporarily

I loved him like a child loves the first rain — with all my heart, without understanding its danger.

We met at a university orientation. He wasn’t the most handsome or the loudest guy in the room. But there was something about him — the way he spoke, the calm in his voice, the ease in his smile — it drew me in like gravity. He made me feel seen in a world that often looked past me.

The first few months were magical. Every morning started with a “good morning, beautiful,” and every night ended with an “I wish you were here.” He would text me constantly — “You’re my whole world,” “Don’t ever leave me,” “I’ve never felt this way before.”

And I believed every word.

Because I wanted to.

When you’re starved for affection, even breadcrumbs feel like a feast.

We would go on late-night drives, talk about our childhoods, our dreams, our fears. He told me about how he was “never lucky in love” and how I was “the one who changed everything.” He held my hand like he meant forever.

So I started imagining one with him.

I began molding my world around his. I canceled plans with friends, changed my routines, even let go of opportunities — all for love. All for him.

But slowly, things started to change.

The messages became shorter. The replies slower.

He started missing our calls. Stopped sharing his day. Laughed less. Smiled less. Touched me less.

I asked him once, “Are we okay?”
He said, “You overthink too much.”

I blamed myself. Maybe I was too emotional. Too needy. Too sensitive.

But my gut knew something I wasn’t ready to accept.

One weekend, he completely disappeared. No calls, no texts, no updates. His last message was “I’ll call you in 10 minutes.” That was two days ago.

Worried, I reached out to a mutual friend — someone who had always been close to him.

What she told me shattered everything.

He had been seen with someone else. At a party. Holding hands. Whispering things in another girl’s ear that he used to say to me.

And he wasn’t hiding it.

It wasn’t a mistake.

It was a replacement.

When I confronted him, he didn’t even flinch.
He said, “Look, things were good. But people grow. You’ll be fine.”

That was it. No apology. No closure. Just… detachment.

I sat there in silence, tears welling up in my eyes, heart pounding so hard I thought it might explode.

“You said I was your world,” I whispered.

He smiled faintly and said, “Yeah, back then.”

Back then.

How quickly someone can go from “forever” to “back then.”


---

The weeks that followed were a blur.

I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. I kept replaying every conversation, every moment. I wondered what I did wrong. Why I wasn’t enough. Why love wasn’t enough.

But the truth is: love isn’t supposed to hurt like this.

It isn’t supposed to make you doubt yourself. It isn’t supposed to make you feel like you're hard to love.


---

Eventually, I realized something important.

He didn’t lie when he said I was his world.

I was.

But only temporarily.

Only until he got bored.
Only until he needed a new escape.
Only until I stopped being convenient.

And people like him don’t love you — they love the way you love them. They feed on it. Until there’s nothing left of you.

But I refuse to let him take the last piece of me.


---

Healing isn’t quick. It’s messy. It’s crying on the bathroom floor at 2 AM. It’s writing messages you’ll never send. It’s deleting pictures, only to stare at the recycle bin.

But slowly, I’m learning.

I’m learning that I deserve someone who chooses me every day — not just on the days it’s easy.

I’m learning that my heart is still capable of love — even after being broken.

And most importantly, I’m learning to love myself enough not to settle for someone who only meant it temporarily.