house of Laine

It’s been a while since I’ve had to do the whole breakup thing, but one thing never seems to change: how quickly guys move on.

I know what everyone is going to say.

“He’s just using someone else to get over you.”

Maybe. But I don’t think that’s what this is.

Just last week he was texting me about how much he missed me. How I was the first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing on his mind before he fell asleep. He talked about us getting better for each other so we could find our way back.

Then, I find out (through stalking of course) there’s another girl.

Who happens to be my age.

I only mention that because one of the reasons he gave for ending things was that I was “so young, I needed to find myself”. That explanation shattered me at the time because I believed it, that I didn’t know who I was. I spent weeks wondering how I could become someone older, wiser, more deserving.

Now I’m left wondering if any aspect of our relationship was true.

It’s not even the fact that there’s someone else. The thought makes me want to vomit- but that’s not her fault.

What hurts is that six days ago he was telling me our story wasn’t over.

How do you go from “I miss you” to someone new in less than a week?

I think that’s the part I’m grieving.

17 year old me thought the attention of an older guy meant I was finally being chosen. Finally being seen. I mistook feeling wanted for feeling valued.

Now 19, and I don’t feel lost because I don’t have a boyfriend. I feel lost because I poured so much of myself into someone who made me believe we had a future, only to leave me questioning whether any of it was real.

How many other girls were there while we were together?

Was anything real, or was he always planning on leaving?

Those questions sound cliché when I write them down, but they’re real. They’re the ones that keep me awake at 2 in the morning.

If age wasn’t actually the problem…

If distance wasn’t actually the problem…

Then what was?

What did I lack?

And why does it feel like I’m being kept in the back of his pocket, just close enough that he can tell me he loves me when he’s lonely, but never close enough to actually choose me?