NO HAPPY ENDINGS: PART ONE-VINCENT

There is a big difference between loving someone and not being able to live without them. It all happened so fast that I lost count of how many times my heart had been broken, yet I kept falling for bad boys. Each heartbreak left a mark, a scar I thought would teach me a lesson but my heart never seemed to listen. I told myself I had learned my lesson, but the pattern repeated itself anyway. Somehow, I always ended up in the arms of someone who could hurt me, someone I couldn’t resist, someone who didn’t belong to me. This time, I fell for someone who didn’t believe in labels. Typical. Foolish. Predictable. But I didn’t care. I was drawn to him like a moth to flame. I told myself it didn’t matter that I could handle it,but the truth was I was obsessed. I wanted us to be exclusive. I wanted to matter. I wanted him to see me as his in a way that counted. And I clung to that hope as if my entire world depended on it. At first, it felt exciting. The secret messages, the stolen moments, the way my heart skipped every time I saw him. It was intoxicating. It was dangerous. But soon, excitement gave way to longing, and longing became obsession. I started wanting more than fleeting affection. I wanted recognition. I wanted to be called his girlfriend or at least acknowledged as the girl he was romantically involved with. But each time I asked, I was met with contradictions that left me reeling. "We are not dating, but the love I have for you is very strong, very deep," he would say. "I cannot seem to stop thinking about you, missing you, wanting you," he added, always followed by the words that shattered me most: "I cannot date you." Every time, my heart splintered into a million pieces. I wanted to see it differently, to believe him when he said he cared, but the truth gnawed at me like a constant ache. Still, I didn’t notice how I was slowly sinking into a quiet depression, trapped in a love that existed more in my mind than in reality. I wanted to be loved and claimed by someone who only ever gave me fragments of himself. I ignored every warning, every hint that heartbreak was inevitable, telling myself I could endure it because I loved him too much to let go. I thought I could control my feelings, that my heart could bend to my will. But love doesn’t listen to logic, and obsession doesn’t care about consequences. I held on, desperate for something that could never fully exist, letting my world revolve around a person who refused to make me whole. And yet, even in the midst of all that chaos, I kept hoping. I kept loving. I kept believing that maybe, just maybe, he would see me the way I wanted to be seen. But as the days turned into nights and the words repeated themselves over and over, I began to understand that some loves are never meant to be contained, never meant to be claimed and sometimes, loving someone means knowing when to let go, even when your heart refuses to listen.