What Becomes Of A Broken Heart: Chapter 4-Dual Pain

He sat on the bed sipping some vodka gazing out of the bedroom window.  I knew what was on his mind and I knew what weighed heavily on his heart.  Just that night, he was awaken by my tears.  Unlike any other guy,  he simply held me tighter to console me.  I was too broken to understand that his love was undeniably one of a kind—and I took it for granted.

I stood at the door, afraid to share what was on my mind because I knew it would tear us even further apart.  He must’ve felt my presence because he turned around and invited me in.  I walked over and sat next to him.

“We need to talk.”  I softly said.

He nodded slowly for me to continue.  But I was stuck.  I couldn’t utter a word.  I didn’t want to lose him, not quite yet. He was too good of a man.  Whenever I wasn’t depressed, he did things to make me happy. He would  send me flowers, take me on romantic dinner and spa dates, and surprise me with thoughtful gifts all  in hopes of stretching a smile across my face.  Or better yet, to make me realize, he was all the man I needed.  But the smile was temporary. I was too spoiled, self-centered and heartless, to say the least, to care about his feelings.  Nothing was intentional, I just couldn’t risk losing him too.

“What is it?”  He interjected.

“Nothing.  Wanna go out?”

And that’s how the pattern continued for weeks.  I’ll have my meltdowns, then, he’ll console me.  We’ll argue, and then make-up.  We both were fighting internal pain but neither one of us could walk away.  As a matter of fact, the longer it continued, the worse things became.

“I’m not Julian.  I could never be.  Stop comparing what I do to what he did.” He yelled with frustration.

His heart was shattered and our relationship had reached its peak.  Our arguments became increasingly intense that we slowly drifted apart.  He was trying everything to save it, while I tried nothing.

It was only a matter of time before I would lose him too.



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