Love arrived for his funeral

THE MEN WHO COULDN’T LOVE ME RIGHT

CHAPTER TWO: THE MEN WHO COULDN’T LOVE ME RIGHT

Leaving Bryan didn’t feel like freedom, it felt like withdrawal. I used to think once I walked away from him, everything would fall back into place.

That I would breathe easier, Sleep better, Smile without forcing it.But that’s not what happened.

Instead, everything became… quiet, Too quiet.

No one was asking where I was anymore, No one was telling me what to, No one was making me feel like I was doing something wrong. father hardly calls me, he has become so busy with work, I couldn't share my feelings with anyone.

And somehow That felt unfamiliar.

I didn’t miss Bryan. I told myself that every day.

You don’t miss him. You miss the attention.

You miss being needed.

But even that felt like a lie. Because what I really missed was not feeling alone.

I started checking my phone without thinking.

Not because I was expecting him. But because my body had not yet learned that he was gone.

That habit stayed longer than I wanted it to.

And in that state I started trying to find love again. I can't tell if what I wanted was true love or just someone to heal my heart with. And in that moment I met Donald.

Donald didn't’ come into my life loudly.

He just… stayed, calm and...I just can't fully explain it. yes that was he's personality.

At least, that’s what it felt like in the beginning.

“You always look like you’re thinking about something,” he said one evening.

I gave a small smile. “Maybe I am.”

“About what?”

I hesitated.

Then shrugged. “Everything.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head.

“You’re too deep,” he said. “You need to relax.”

Relax.

That word sounded so easy when he said it.

Like it was something I could just decide to do.

With Donald, there was no pressure.

No heavy expectations.No constant correction like my Ex. He didn’t ask where I was every minute, Didn't question my choices, Didn’t make me feel like I had to prove myself. And for a moment that felt like peace. But peace is not supposed to feel like uncertainty. It started with small things, The kind of things you notice but try to ignore. I would text him.

He wouldn’t reply. At first, I told myself it was nothing, People get busy, People forget. People have lives.

But then hours would pass. Then a whole day.

Then two. And every time my phone lit up my heart would react before my mind could stop it.

Only to settle into disappointment when it wasn’t him.

Why are you reacting like this?

It’s not that serious.

But it felt serious.

Not because of him

But because of what it was doing to me.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy,” he said one day after disappearing for almost three days.

I stared at the message for a long time before replying.

“Busy doing what?”

He replied almost immediately.

“Life.”

Life.

I read that word over and over again. So I’m not part of your life? I didn’t send that, I never sent the things I really wanted to say. Instead, I typed:

“Oh, okay.” Always okay. Even when I wasn’t.

One evening, I decided not to text him, Not to call.

Not to check in. I wanted to see if he would notice. That night felt longer than usual.

I picked up my phone more times than I could count. Opened our chat. Closed it. Locked my screen. Unlocked it again.

Don’t text him.

Let him come to you.

Morning came. Nothing. Afternoon passed. Still nothing. By evening, I started to feel something I didn’t expect. Not anger. Not sadness.Something quieter. Insignificance. Like I could disappear from his world and nothing would shift.Nothing would pause. Nothing would matter.On the fourth day, his message came in like nothing had happened.

“Hey, love "

I stared at the message

At how easy it was for him to return. Like I hadn’t spent days thinking about him, Waiting, Wondering.This is not normal, For once, that thought didn’t fade. It stayed. My fingers hovered over the keyboard.

“I think we should stop talking.”

I stared at the message before sending it, My heart beating faster than it should. Then I pressed send.

His reply came almost instantly.

“Lol why? What did I do?”

I let out a small, tired laugh.

“Exactly.”

" what do you mean?what did you do"

" You ignored me for three days and dare ask me these"

" I have been busy" he replied

" And was never a spared time for me oh wow! "

"I'm done I can't do this anymore "

"done with what?" he called several times but I didn't reply. I was starting to accept less… just to avoid being alone. After a few weeks of constant messages and calls from him, he apologized,

"I'm sorry babe" please I'm really sorry "

" Give me another chance to be better"

" it's fine" but promise me you won't ignore me again" I said to him with tears in my eyes.

"I promise" he said,

Donald didn’t leave space for doubt. “Good morning lucy,” he texted. “Have you eaten?”

“Where are you?” “What are you doing?”

" Good morning Donald". " yes I have eaten and I'm on my way to school".

At first it felt good. Like I finally mattered. Like someone was finally paying attention.

“You should tell me everything,” he said one night. I smiled faintly. “Everything?” “Yes,” he replied. “That’s how relationships work.” I wanted to believe him. But something inside me hesitated.

“Where are you?” he asked one afternoon.

“At home,” I replied.

“With who?”

“My friend”

“Send me a picture.”

My fingers paused over my phone. That feeling again. That quiet discomfort I couldn’t explain.

“Why?” I asked. “So I can see you,” he said.

Simple, but it didn’t feel simple. Still I sent it.

Because part of me thought, Maybe this is what normal looks like. But normal shouldn’t feel like pressure.With Donald everything had conditions.

“I don’t like you going out too much,” he said.

“I barely go out,” I replied.

“You don’t need to,” “I’m enough.”

My chest tightened.

Enough? from someone who barely calls, who barely spends time with me. That word sounded heavy. Like something closing in on me.

“I had plans this weekend,” I said carefully.

“Cancel it.”

I blinked. “What?”

“If you care about this relationship, you’ll cancel it.”

There it was... not loud, not aggressive, but firm.

The kind of firmness that doesn’t ask. It expects.

“I don’t think that’s fair,” I said quietly.

He exhaled sharply.

“You’re starting to stress me,” he muttered.

I’m stressing you? For wanting to live my life?That was when it hit me. This wasn’t new. It was Bryan in another body, in a different voice.

“I can’t do this,” I said finally.

“Do what?” he snapped.

“Lose myself again.”

He went quiet. But this time I didn’t wait for his response, I ended it. totally, never to go back again.

"Do I have a problem", " am I really the problem"

it looks like I was wrong with the way I thought about love. " But I have seen my father love my mom passionately". All this thought kept running out loud in my mind.