Isn’t love lovely? It’s the most euphorically stimulating experience that mesmerizes our inhibitions. At least that’s how I felt. I wanted to spend every moment of every day with him; and it seemed like we did because we worked together and when we weren’t at work we talked endlessly on what’s app. I still remember the way he smells, I loved the way he smelled. I loved the way his beard tickled my forehead when we laid next to each other. I loved listening to the vibration of his smooth voice as I laid my head on his chest. I loved how willing he was to make me laugh. I loved our dates. I loved his kisses. I loved our deep conversations. I loved that he supported my dreams. I loved that he wanted to be with me. I loved all these things and so much more that I thought we were meant for each other. I thought we’d be together, if not forever, at least for a long time.
Our coworkers thought we made the perfect couple, I was proud to be his girlfriend. One coworker, who I thought was my friend, even got extra petty and bitter with me when she found out about our relationship. He became my drug. I hate to admit it now, but I was addicted to his voice, his touch, his embrace. I wanted to be around him so much that I was willing to skip school to spend time with him. I’m not going to pretend he didn’t have faults, there were moments when we didn’t agree, but I was willing to look past whatever to make things work between us. I opened up to him, I let him in, I shared with him things about myself that I’d hidden from my closest friends. I was my most affectionate and submissive self with him. I tried my best to do everything and anything within reason to show him my love. We’d joke about moving in together until we started to make plans about our potential future when we’d move to Texas after I graduate from college. I was really convinced that our love was blooming.
I never questioned his feelings for me. It had only been just over four months, but I never noticed any signs to trigger suspicion. We weren’t spending as much time together as before because he started a new job but whenever our schedules matched we spent it together. One afternoon he came over after work and I was so happy to see him. He started telling me about an altercation he faced with an ex-girlfriend showing me the scratches on his face and neck. I couldn’t believe, in this day and age, that women still went savage on men when they didn’t get their way. I believed his story. I trusted him.
A few hours later, when I checked my facebook, I had a message waiting for me from, let’s call her Clara. Clara didn’t waste any time getting to the point. Of course I am paraphrasing but she basically told me that she was “fucking my man.” Apparently she was the savage he tried telling me about but clearly he left out the most important detail. Of course he denied it at first but eventually he told me the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough to make me feel willing to forgive him. He made it seem as though it happened when we just started talking. I didn’t get too upset.
A couple weeks later, Clara texted me while I was at his house, telling me the same old tale and I explained to her that it was okay, its in the past and its over; until she told me they were together recently, in his bed! After he denied it again I called Clara and started making plans for us to meet with her so we could put all her accusations to rest, to which he admitted to his cheating. I was extremely hurt, embarrassed and upset. Despite my frustration, his tears made me willing to forgive him again.
Although my relationship was falling apart before my eyes was I still willing to do my best to pick up the pieces. I loved him so I was willing to work on whatever it was that was gnawing at the trust we built. I was willing to overlook his disloyalty and lack of judgement for the sake of love. Unfortunately, I was the only one trying to fix our broken relationship. He started pulling away, he’d say he wanted to work on us but his actions continued to contradict his words.
After a couple weeks he finally broke up with me, but I didn’t want to let go. I didn’t want to give up on a relationship that I had invested so much time and energy into. He had become my best friend, the one I wanted to spend all my time with. His absence made me feel incomplete and depressed. I’d call him, and he didn’t want to talk to me, He started ignoring my calls and my messages. I became so desperate that I had my best friend call him to play relationship counselor, that didn’t work of course. He didn’t want me anymore. He wanted nothing to do with me. When he’d finally pick up the phone I’d beg him to explain why he didn’t want to be together anymore, and to this day I still don’t know because all he’d say was, “I have nothing more to say.”
Unwilling to give me the explanation and closure I so desperately needed, I was left to fix my broken heart alone. I was so ashamed, when my coworkers would ask about him I’d feel so awkward, I even pretended like I was unbothered by my failed relationship. Although I was crumbling inside I had to smile and act like everything was alright.
My love, my loyalty, my forgiveness, my trust wasn’t enough. I used to think that I wasn’t enough, I wanted to know where I went wrong, foolishly I questioned my self back and forth, combing through everything I did and everything I said trying to figure out why I wasn’t enough, but it has taken three years for me to figure out that even though I felt like I wasn’t enough, it was him who fell far short of worthy. It’s easy for me to look back now and criticize how stupid I was, but I’ll accept it as a learning experience.
You can’t force someone to see if they refuse to open their eyes. We give our all to the ones we love yet they refuse to appreciate our commitments. Despite a woman’s nature to hold it down and hold it together, sometimes we have to be strong enough to let go. We need to stop allowing people to make us feel insufficient, insecure and incomplete. We’re too strong to allow men to make us weak! We deserve the best and nothing less!