From Betrayal to Acceptance

I’m not sure where to begin, honestly. My dream, my fairy tale, shattered almost a month ago. The man who once inspired me, who I believed in with all my heart, is the same man who tore it apart.

I still love him; I still crave him amidst the whirlwind of confusion—why?

Why did he leave me for her?

Was it really my fault that I didn’t come soon enough?

Why couldn’t he tell me himself?

Four years, nearly five—what was it all for? How could he do this to me, for almost a year? She was eager to tell me she had won, as if you were a trophy she stole from me. But you were never that. You were my best friend, my future. When it was just you and me, the world fell silent around us. But clearly, you needed something physical, something I couldn’t give soon enough because I was afraid—afraid of the what-ifs.

What if it didn’t work out?

What if I didn’t fit in?

What if my family didn’t like you?

Was it wrong to love you?

As soon as I saw that email, heard her voice, I knew it was over. I can’t go back. I’d be a fool to go back. You’d do it again—you will do it again. The man I love will hurt me. That’s the hardest truth I have to accept.

I wasn’t wrong to give away the gifts you gave me. The love I had for you was already taken from me. You were taken from me the moment you touched her, the moment you told her you loved her. You were no longer mine.

My God, I hated the universe for it. I hated you. I hated that even though I no longer belong to you, I still feel obligated to explain myself to you. Even though my decisions after all this don’t concern you, I felt I needed you.

Now I am alone, and I’m willing to embrace my future without you. I’m willing to build my life and accept that maybe it was never meant to be you. Yet, I know I’ll forever miss you, before my world crumbled apart.