It was Mid-April and we had been going through a rough patch. Our communication was malfunctioning and we were having some issues getting through the day to day of it all. We had just celebrated our 2-year anniversary after living together almost a year and a half the month before, and the month before that adopted a puppy together. “Everything is okay,” I thought. “It’s just a rough patch. Everyone goes through these. We’re growing. He just needs some space.”
One night he was really adamant about us having a date night. I was excited about the prospect of us spending time together because he had been going out a lot lately and I hadn’t seen him as much as I had wanted to. We rented the new Star Wars flick and had a great time. My fears were silenced and I went to bed peacefully that night.
The very next evening, while he was out with friends I got a message that that my boyfriend had been dating another girl in addition to me for the last few weeks.
My head felt like it caved into itself, and the walls quickly closed in on my vision. The next thing I remember, I jumped into my car and drove around town to where he was supposed to be while simultaneously trying to call him repeatedly. I begged the universe for this to be a joke. He finally called me back and he immediately, and coolly confessed. I had never heard such a cold tone to his voice. The only words that were floating around my head were, “It’s over.”
But how could it be over? We were so happy last night. It was the best night we have had in a long time. He had kissed me and told me he loved me before he left today so what gives?
The next thing I remember is calling my best friend who so graciously rushed over to help me pack at 1 A.M. so I could rush to my parent’s house where I decided I was going to live. I called my mom, and I remember hearing her sobbing for my pain in between my gasps of breath of heaving sobs. The next day, with my t-shirt soaked from silent tears, I drove a large moving truck that was way too big for me to my apartment. I threw everything I owned into bags, and with the help of some amazing people I got my belongings packed in 4 hours and I was on the way home to a new chapter.
From there, the next 4 months seemed to be a blur. He still stayed in a relationship with the girl he cheated on me with, and they’re together to this day. All of the days blended in with each other. This was my person. The “one.” The one I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with. The one I shared a bed with. Whose sleepy eyes I looked into every morning and drank out of matching coffee cups with. He took care of me when I had my appendix out and when I had the flu, and I took care of him when he was sick and when he was having a rough day. We laughed at each other until we cried. We saw the sun set on the beach, and we held each other at our darkest times and our greatest times.
But now, he’s someone else’s person to make memories with.
Some days anger flows through me with a hot fire. Some days I look at her social media and compare myself to her and roll up into a little ball and sob wishing it were me. She took my place. She is the one that has the spot on the couch now next to his grandma. She is the one that goes on family vacations and gets texts from his mom. She is the one who is going to be involved with the family I thought of as my own. At times I feel betrayed, and frustrated because it’s out of my control. I look at all of this life happening without me and I just want to say, “mine, mine, MINE!”
But it’s not my place anymore.
It’s time for me to move forward and heal my soul. Of all of the lessons that I have had to learn in life, this would be a large one. Each day I gain a little more clarity and a little more light at the end of the tunnel. I hope she treats him well and never takes a single moment for granted. I hope she knows what food makes him sick and that sometimes he doesn’t like himself. I hope she has the same wicked sense of humor and appreciates the brilliant sparkle in his blue eyes.
Because I did. But he’s not mine anymore.