I used to think that it was better to have loved and lost. I used to think that I was glad to be experiencing this emotion. That it meant I was living and trying. Love was a good thing. Love is a beautiful thing. I used to enjoy the feeling of my heart racing every time I saw him. It used to feel like I was flying. It used to feel like I was on top of the world. I craved the feeling. At least I did when I didn’t feel the pain and the rejection. When I just lived for the moments of us being together. When a simple hello could make my week. Those were the days, the weeks, the months that made me love being in love. But then I got older, wiser, and sadder. Now the love is tinged in pain. Now every time we share a smile, I don’t know whether I want to laugh or cry. Sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe. Sometimes I feel like I can’t go on. Sometimes I feel like I’m a walking corpse and that my life will never be the same again. And now that I’d slept with him, now I’d known him in a way I’d dreamt of for years, I knew that everything would only get harder.
Cody Brookstone. The man of my dreams. The man I considered my soul mate. Once upon a time I would have believed we were destined to be with each other. Once upon a time, I thought it was inevitable. I’d believed that there was no feeling this strong, this powerful, that couldn’t be real. That couldn’t mean we weren’t made for each other. But now, now I’m older. Now I’m walking down the street after the best and worst moment of my life. Now, I’m sitting here on a random street bench trying not to cry my eyes out and I’m wondering to myself what has possessed me? What has come over me? How could I be so sad, so desperate, and so crazy over someone who didn’t care? I didn’t know if he ever thought about me, if he ever cared. The pain at that feeling. The pain knowing he was always in my thoughts but I was nothing to him. It consumed me. Absolutely consumed me. It made me question my sanity and self-worth. It made me question everything. He meant everything to me. I’d given myself to him willingly, lovingly. I’d been excited when he’d teased me under the table and taken me to the bedroom. I’d thought it had meant something more than it had, but of course, I’d been wrong again. I felt the warm tears running down my face and I buried my face in my hands. I let the tears pour down my face ungracefully. I let myself sob until my eyes hurt. I let my body shake. I let myself cry out in anguish. I let myself release all of the sorrow and despair that I felt. Cody had broken me. I’d let him break me. I was no longer a person I recognized. I was no longer me. And if I was honest with myself, I knew that it wasn’t Cody’s fault. It was mine. He’d never pretended to offer me something else. He’d never made any false promises. He’d never told me he loved me or even liked me in a way more than friends. It had all been in my head and I had to let go. If I didn’t, I was scared at how much lower I could go. As I sat up and looked at the empty road in front of me, I realized that I was already the lowest I’d ever been and I could allow myself to sink even further. It was time for me to be strong. It was time for me to let Cody go.
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