It might have been toxic

Some call love a chemical connection, some say it’s spiritual, some call it electric. For me, we were all of that and more — we were toxic.

A month ago I would’ve told anyone that listened, “I don’t feel loved by him anymore.” I told you numerous times. I told you how much I loved you, how much you meant to me. But you never changed and I never stopped complaining about it. Now that it’s over, I tell myself you did love me. I tell myself you still do, that it was my fault and not yours. I tell myself I pushed you too hard and I should’ve appreciated the little you did for me. I had to worship you more so that maybe one day you would look into my eyes and tell me how much you loved me. But you didn’t. That’s why you never looked at me as I slept. That’s why you stopped kissing my neck and playing with my fingers when we held hands, if we even held hands.

I couldn’t tell the world how much I loved you, you wouldn’t let me. You always said those couples that posted about their relationships were fake. You told me those guys cheated on their girlfriends and posted about their love to cover it up. I don’t know if you cheated on me. I never will. You don’t answer my calls, my texts, my tears of agony at night– God doesn’s answer those either.

I met you when I was fifteen, you were seventeen. You were the complete opposite of what I would normally go for. But you were so nice. You were funny, shy and you made me smile without trying. You showed me a world I didn’t know. You made me feel loved. You made me feel wanted. You made me forget that anyone else existed in this world. You became my world.

One day I will find the person you say I deserve. Sadly, I will ignore him. He will keep trying because I can be an amazing women. I am an amazing women. It’s sad you couldn’t see that. But he will stop trying, just like you and I did. And just like that, I will own five dogs and adopt the three kids we were supposed to have.

Our memories, oh baby those are hammered into my brain. Our vacation at Lake George, the time we went hiking and had to be rescued by park rangers at 10 p.m., the time you got so drunk on NYE that you passed out on my bathroom floor and your mom had to pick you up. I won’t forgot last NYE when we saw our friend die a terrible, unfair death. I will always feel the way your body felt against mine. The way you hugged me when I was upset that night. I can’t forget your irregular heartbeat. Maybe that’s why you don’t love me, you literally have a bad heart.

When you were angry at me, you picked me up and put me upside down. I loved that. It showed you finally cared. But I should’ve known this would end the moment you forgot how we said good-bye on the phone: “Goodnight, I love you. Muaah!”