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I was so convinced that she loved me as much as I loved her, that she wanted me in her life like I wanted her in mine, that I made her happy like she made me happy. I had my moments of doubt, but deep inside I was sure, I trusted her completely. It wasn’t a conviction based on my senses, my imagination or my wishes only. It was based, built on her words, actions, looks, touches.
Then, in four months, I found out some horribly different things:
– she can and she did leave me;
– she is perfectly fine without me in her life, dancing, partying, smiling, laughing, having fun, getting excited over other people, like I never existed in her life;
– she is ashamed of us, of what we did, of what we were;
– her memories of me are awful and hurtful and she desperately wants to reject them, reject me completely, and she succeeded;
– she doesn’t love me;
– I mean „absolutely nothing” for her.
Less than four months from „I love you” to „nope”, and we didn’t even exchange one single word in the meantime.
Asking myself „why” has no sense anymore, it just is and it’s incomprehensible.
And here I am, five months later, completely unable to do what she did.
Here I am, still sobbing at 4 am, crying on the streets and on the bus, falling apart in the shower, ambushed
everywhere by memories and choked out by longing. Wondering if there is something that doesn’t remind me of her.
Here I am, missing her every moment, thinking of her every day, wanting her back despite everything.
Barely existing. Finding this life less and less bearable. And a simple „nope”, and a simple „absolutely nothing” render me into a mess a despair, agony and death wish.


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