Love was everything...

*These are not my original ideas! This is a rewrite of a story I found online but have since lost. I claim none of the ideas as my own, though the writing is mine.*
     


      Of course I was hurt the whole time. I just didn’t say anything.

             

     For a few painfully long heartbeats, there was nothing but silence, the kind sharp enough to slice through the air and make you hold your breath or else it will dig into your skin and wrap itself tightly around your lungs. Silence so deadly it could kill.

             

     Somewhere nearby a car was passing by. A woman was laughing and the giggles of children soon followed. Perhaps it was the upstairs neighbors or one of the children that lived close to Jay. I’d been there enough to know that there was always some sort of ruckus in the background. There was never quiet. There was always something happening… No matter how hurt you are, life doesn’t stop for anyone.

             

     The sound of the cars speeding by numbed my mind. The voices began to haunt me again, particularly his voice. The funny thing about voices is that you can’t choose when they will haunt you. No matter how hard you try to push the thoughts out of your mind, nothing changes. The voices – his voice – won’t go away. They’re always there, playing in your subconscious like a broken record, reminding you of better times, of things you will never get back. Your mind becomes your worst enemy.

             

     He finally looked at me for the first time since I entered the room. His deep blue eyes locked onto mine and held my gaze. Neither of us spoke. His back was against the wall, his hands clasping and unclasping as he stared at me. This place was familiar – this place had been ours when I was still his, when he still wanted me instead of… her.

            

     But he knew how I acted when I was hurt. Of course, he would never hurt me, or so he said. A part of him would be hurt as well. My only question is why.

             

     If he cared so much, why did he hurt me? I won’t scream. I won’t cry or break down or let him see my walls crumble around me. I had done all of this in the safety of my loneliness; I had cried more tears than I thought possible. I had screamed until my vocal chords ached and my lungs ran out of air. I had screamed his name until the sound of the word was foreign and felt wrong coming out of my mouth. Now, all of the emotions pounding inside of me, swarming through my head, simply came out as silence, the kind that could drive you mad if you weren’t careful.

             

     Why? Why would he cheat on me? Had I done something wrong?

            

      It technically wasn’t cheating. His voice is flat, as if his mind is somewhere else, focused on something more important than me, and it probably is. He says nothing happened between them. He simply liked her a lot. He swears that was all that had happened, that I was overreacting, that it was nothing to be concerned about.

             

     But if she liked him back, would he have left me?

             

     He’s silent. He won’t dare answer this question. I have a feeling he doesn’t want to hurt me, but if he’s trying to avoid doing that, it’s too late. He has hurt me far more than he knows or ever will know. He has shattered me already.

             

     He would leave me.

             

     The thought is foreign, cold. It feels heavy on my mind. It takes a moment to sink in, but I immediately grasp the seriousness of it. If she had returned his feelings, he would have left me. I would have been left alone and he wouldn’t have cared at all.

             

     His eyes stray away from mine and he stares down at his feet. His hands continue their nervous dance of touching then dropping to his sides.

             

     He didn’t just like her. He was in love with her. Even though he didn’t say so, it was blatantly obvious. Just the look on his face spelled it out for me. Jay had always been an open book, and I was an excellent reader. He says he couldn’t help it – he simply just fell for her.

             

     He. Still. Loves. Her.                                      

             

     The thought hit me like a ton of bricks and stung like a slap across the face. I saw it in his eyes when he mentioned her, the other girl, the one who managed to make him smile like I never had. I see it in the look on his face – it’s the way I’ve always looked at him. It’s a look of pure adoration and love. For me, he was what made love real. Before him, I’d heard of how wonderful love was, but when I met him it became real. He was real and he was perfect and he was mine. Love was the way he smiled at me when he told me I was beautiful. Love was the way he’d hold me tightly and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. Love was the way he said my name. Love was everything I meant to him, and everything he still means to me.

             

     He’s sorry, though his apology honestly isn’t really an apology. It’s a statement, a confession of something I already knew. I saw it coming, but that doesn’t stop my heart from breaking. It doesn’t stop me from feeling the pain of loss and rejection, of feeling like I’m not good enough and like I never was at all. This other girl is better…

             

     What did he like in her? I had to ask him. It was masochistic of me to ask, but I had to know. Was it her mind? Was she smarter than me? Did she intrigue him and draw him in? I simply did not understand how this other girl was different from me, and my own assumptions would not satisfy me.

             

     But he won’t answer my question. She wasn’t better than me. Don’t beat myself up, he says. One of his hands suddenly reaches out and grasps onto one of mine. I let him, and for a moment I feel whole again. For one fleeting second, I am my old self. I am not in pain. I am not hurting. But that moment passes and our eyes lock. He will not have power over me anymore.

             

     We’re both wonderful, he says. I shouldn’t take this so personally. But how can I not take it personally? He has decided that he likes her more than me. I am not important anymore… I am not enough.

             

    I will never understand and we both know this, and he knows better than to continue to explain. I won’t get it no matter how much he tries. In my eyes, I am not enough. I have failed and I am broken.

            

     I take a deep breath before I open my mouth again. We’re over. We both knew this as well. He understands.

             

     His hand drops mine and my heart betrays me, lurching, wanting him to grab my hand one more time. But this would be a mistake. I know better than to let him back in.

             

     He’s sorry. He never meant to hurt me, but I think otherwise. He had to have known what he was doing the whole time. I can’t listen to him anymore. While part of me appreciates the fact that he is trying to give me closure, I can’t hear him out anymore. I just can’t put myself through it any longer.

            

     I’m out the door before he can speak again, running to our spot. Before I know it I reach the tree – our tree – in the park where we spent a lot of our time together.

             

     The noose is already there. I’d had this whole thing planned out. With shaky legs, I step onto the chair and place the noose around my neck. Nobody will have power over me anymore. Nobody.

            

     I am done.

             

     Three.

             

     Two.

            

     One.

             

     My body trembles. I take a deep breath and kick the chair away from me. The rope catches my neck, suspending me in mid-air. As everything fades to black, the pain goes away.

             

     I am free.