"And for a while, she was mine."
Based off a true story of a romance gone wrong.

1. .:X:.

"You and I walk a fragile line
I have known it all this time
But I never thought I'd see it break..." - Haunted, Taylor Swift


It’s sickening.

Every day I go to school and see her. She’s beautiful, smart, funny, popular – everything people dream of being.

And for a while, she was mine. She was on my arm, and she was proud to be mine, and I was proud to be hers. We’d walk side by side, and hold hands, and she’d kiss me on the cheek a lot and tuck stray hair behind my ears. We’d kiss and cuddle at our homes under our forts made of pillows and blankets, like little children make, and we’d watch movies into the night. We’d sing and dance together, we’d laugh and talk about our favourite TV shows and she’d tell me embarrassing stories about her little brother. We’d go rollerskating hand-in-hand under flashing lights, and we’d chase after each other at the water park.

When I couldn’t be with her, she’d be with other friends and send me sneaky pictures of them doing weird things, and tell me that being surrounded by boys was a lesbian’s worst nightmare. I’d laugh, and I’d agree.

I thought we’d last a lot longer than we did.

When she came to me, bawling, sobbing, not letting me take her into my arms, she told me that she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t be in a relationship. Not after what happened. I told her that I understood, and that I’d always be there for her, as her girlfriend, or just as a friend. Because I cared about her.

So we ended it. I was no longer her girlfriend and she was no longer mine. She started avoiding me, and I watched her from afar. She seemed happy without commitment, if not happier than she had been with me. I understood.

My friends and my family commented on it. They commented that we seemed so happy together, and they asked questions. I answered the ones I could without prying into her personal life. I took care of her from afar, there when she needed me. I didn’t let the sadness and the pain of our breakup consume me.

But now? Now it’s always in the back of my head, controlling my every word, controlling the course of every train of thought.

Not a week and a half after our relationship ended, she was in another one. Now she was in the arms of a boy, one of her best friends, someone I don’t even know. My supposedly lesbian ex-girlfriend had left me and was in a relationship with a boy.

She seems so happy with him. Happier than she had ever been with me. It was like I never existed. She doesn’t pay any attention to me now, never looks at me, never acknowledges my existence. It’s like she’s refusing to say that we were in a relationship at all, and it hurts. It hurts so much, every day.

My first girlfriend, the first person that I’ve ever cared about as much as I cared for her, had betrayed my fragile trust that I had placed in her care.

I muted her story on Instagram. All she posts there are selfies and gushes about how cute and amazing he is. Like I care.

It’s disgusting. She kisses him in public, fully aware that I am there. I don’t know him, so I can’t be sure that he’s taking care of her at all, the way I took care of her. I don’t know if he’s holding her like I held her, laughing with her like I did, or being as much of a friend as a lover as I was.

I’m more closed off now. One of my friends commented on it. They said that I don’t talk about things as openly as I did. I know they can see that there isn’t a spark in my eyes like there used to be.

I don’t know what other people think now. Most ignore it, although sometimes I get a look of pity from someone who remembers that she and I were together at one point. That just makes me feel worse.

A part of me was crushed when she betrayed my trust, and I don’t know if I’m ever going to get that back. I don’t know if I’ll be able to have a good relationship in the future, not with the fear of history repeating itself hanging over my shoulder, the thunderclouds rumbling day after day. I can’t even cry about it. It’s like she drained me of all emotion, leaving only anger and fear and loneliness.

I know I’m not alone. But my best friend has a boyfriend, and my sibling isn’t very good with relationships, and I don’t think my parents thought it would last very long from the beginning. I hate this feeling, but I don’t know what to do about it.

I don’t know if I’ll get that trust back again, let alone if I’ll ever be ready to give it to someone new. I don’t know if I’ll let anybody in after this. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust anyone the way I trusted her every again.

I fear that she will taint any relationship I have in the future.

I remember promising myself that this wouldn’t happen to me. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let something like this consume me, or let it affect my other relationships. I was so naïve. Little did I know how hard it would be to pick myself up.

I’ve lost two people that I cared about this year, and this Christmas might be the last one I spend with my beloved grandmother.

I’m trapped here, in this blue neighbourhood full of sadness and emptiness. There’s nobody else here. I’m trapped, and I can’t go looking for someone new to help me find my way, and nobody’s going to come looking for me here. There’s no way anybody would come here, strolling into my life like they do in the movies. That’s impossible, in my eyes.

I need change. I need something new, something to kick-start me back on the track I had paved out for myself. But I don’t believe in fate, or destiny, or a higher power that controls our fates.

As much as I sometimes wish it were, life isn’t a fairy tale. Some beautiful princess isn’t going to sweep me off my feet. Nobody is going to come dancing into my life to help me.

So for now, I have to find a way to help myself.


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