It’s all over.
I suffered in silence for months. The joy I felt looking at my cell phone for the good morning text was superseded with a blank screen and a heavy heart. I knew that he wasn’t the one for me. I knew he was a prick and wanted nothing more than what any other guy did. I knew he was lacking in all the necessary aspects of a healthy relationship. Yet, knowing all of these things, I still fell for him. And when I gave him exactly what he wanted, reality hit me like bricks.
Why did I do this to myself? I can never answer for sure. No matter what he did, there was always something about him that made my longing for him increase by the day. Had any other person did or said the things he did, I’d cease all communication. But not with him.
I’d found out that this same cycle was his routine and I was not the first fool and definitely not the last. Ever since we had sex, he stopped talking to me altogether. I only wish he had the decency and respect to not make me regret it the very next morning.
Fast forward 2 A.M. and 6 months later, I text him for the first time since the break up and the words “let’s hook up” leave my fingers faster than I realized.
We’re in my room, on my bed, and soon on top of each other. I let down my walls of disappointment and smiled into the eyes of the person who caused me so much pain and resentment. I smiled, looking for something that I used to see and let him fall into me as if nothing ever happened. And then, nothing really did happen. When he kissed me, I felt nothing. When our clothes came off, the excitement I felt in the past was met with an unfamiliar sense of calm. The veil of unconditional love was gone and the sex I used to think was the best I’d ever have was actually mediocre. The realization of it all was beautiful.
I wanted him out of my room as soon as possible. The remnants of our past were shattered and the hostility and resentment I had garnered throughout the months were no where to be found.
I was over him and it felt great.