Falling for you

Love, like a puzzle, is supposed to have that one piece that fits perfectly. It’s supposed to lift you up, make you feel like you’re floating, right? But for me, love turned into a nightmare—a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from, no matter how much I wanted to. I used to believe in love. I really did. I thought I had it all figured out, that I’d found my person. But life? Life had other plans. The people I trusted most ripped it away from me like it was some kind of cruel joke. And the punchline? My own boyfriend... and my best friend. They destroyed everything I thought was real. On my birthday, no less. I mean, can you imagine? Happy birthday to me, here’s a broken heart and a shattered friendship. Thanks, universe. It’s wild, right? I had no choice but to cut them both out of my life and try to figure out how to move on. Easier said than done. I still remember the first time he told me he liked me. It wasn’t just him either—he brought his friend along, like this was some kind of group project. I liked him, sure, but I wasn’t in love. I wasn’t even looking for love. I was focused on school, my future, all the things that made sense. But I was young, stupid, and afraid of hurting his feelings, so I said yes. Maybe part of me hoped it could be something real. Maybe I just didn’t want to disappoint him. But here’s the thing—he was always asking about Jane. Yeah, that Jane. My best friend. At first, I brushed it off. They were friends too, right? But eventually, I had to ask, “Why are you always so interested in Jane?” He smiled, that annoying, charming smile, and ran his fingers through my hair like it was no big deal. “Nothing,” he said, like I was the crazy one for even asking. Fast forward two years, and I’m still trying to make it work, still trying to convince myself that this relationship is worth something. And then came my birthday. It was also our two-year anniversary. A double whammy, right? It was supposed to be our day. I remember asking him, “What day is it today?” He shrugged like it was just another Sunday. “Isn’t it Sunday? Have a blessed Sunday, my love.” Yeah. He said that. “No,” I said, my voice shaking, “today is our two-year anniversary… and my birthday.” “Oh, really? Happy anniversary and birthday!” He laughed it off, like it was no big deal. “I didn’t forget,” he added, trying to cover himself. “I was just pretending so I could surprise you later.” Sure, he was. That’s when everything fell apart. Later that day, he messaged me: Henry: Hey babe, we’ll meet later at our usual spot, alright? Me: Sure ♡ I went to meet him, expecting some half-baked apology or maybe even the “surprise” he mentioned. But instead, I got a front-row seat to my own personal nightmare. I overheard him talking to Jane. My best friend and my boyfriend, talking about how they had feelings for each other. Like, actual, romantic feelings. They were debating whether they should just admit it already. I swear, my heart just stopped. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I could do was run. I ran home so fast, tears streaming down my face, my vision blurry, my chest aching. My birthday. The day that was supposed to be ours. And they did this to me. --- Text Messages: Henry: Babe, could you please respond to my message? Me: I’m sorry, but our relationship is over. Me: Please don’t contact me again. And just like that, I blocked him. Jane, of course, tried to apologize. I didn’t even want to hear it. I couldn’t even look at her. How could she do this to me? How could he do this to me? I asked her one question: “Why would I talking to someone who would hurt their own friend just to chase after a fleeting romance?” She didn’t have an answer. And honestly, I didn’t want one. --- And that’s how love, for me, went from something beautiful to something I never wanted to touch again. It left me broken, with no idea how to put myself back together. But here’s the thing—sometimes, the pieces we lose are the ones we never needed to begin with.