As we sat on his bed side-by-side, like we had so many times before, I felt myself shattering on the inside. I let him in—all the way in, and as much as I was disappointed in him for hurting me, I was even more disappointed in myself for letting him do it again.
He swung his gaze to meet mine, and I stared into the hazel eyes that had once made my heart race. Now they just made it ache. “I love you,” he finally said.
His words fell over me like a hailstorm laced with glass. “You don’t love me,” I snapped. My voice was thick and unrecognizable even to my own ears. “Don’t you dare say you did.”
He ran his fingers through his hair roughly and clenched down on his dark brown locks. “I messed up, okay? People mess up. What do you want from me?”
I sucked my bottom lip in between my teeth and bit down until the taste of copper invaded my mouth. “What do I want from you?” I asked. “I wanted you to be someone I could trust. I wanted you to stay faithful to me. I wanted you to want me.” The last few words came out strangled, and tears clogged my throat.
“I do want you,” he whispered.
Something inside me snapped at his words and pulled me out of the trance I had been in for far too long. I shot up off of the bed and turned to stand directly in front of him as I glared down at him.
“You don’t want me,” I screamed as my hands balled up into fists. “You wanted what I could do for you, and what I could give to you, or maybe you even just wanted my body, like you wanted that other girl. Or maybe…maybe you just wanted to be wanted. But don’t you ever tell me that you wanted me, because you didn’t, and you know what? I deserve to be wanted. I deserve someone who wants me–someone who wants me so much they wouldn’t even dream of doing what you did. I deserve someone who genuinely loves me, not someone who just says he does.”
He started to speak, but I threw my hand up in the air silencing him.
“I’m done,” I said in an even tone.
I’d said the words so many times, but this time it was different because this time it wasn’t meant out of anger, or frustration. It was just said out of pure honesty and exhaustion, and the look on his face told me he knew that. His pink lips stayed open, but no words came out. There was nothing left to be said.
For a minute, we both just stood there, and a million memories rushed through my mind all at once, until finally the last thought I would ever have about him came crashing down on me. He was poison, and he always had been. I let him in, and I loved him, but I didn’t anymore. It was the end of us, and that was even more terrifying than the beginning of us had been.
I turned away from him, knowing I would never see him again. I walked out the door and shut it gently behind me. I stood there for a moment, with my back pushed up against the door. It was over, and that was terrifying, but it was also liberating.
I was finally walking away, and it was the best decision I had ever made because maybe he didn’t love me, but I sure as hell loved myself. And I was all I needed.