Damaged Goods

I fell for him. I fell for him oh so hard.

Tall. Dark. Handsome. Toned dad bod. Big beautiful brown eyes that can speak any language without saying a single word. Thick, luscious lips, Pure beauty.

Intelligent. Well spoken. Well read. Interesting. He could probably talk his way out of anything if he tried. A voice I could listen to for days; he could read the entire dictionary every day for eternity and I would hang on to every word.

This is everything I wish I could say to him.

I met you about 7 months after my first real relationship ended. Four years with someone who didn’t make me feel appreciated. Someone who didn’t make me feel seen. This guy, though. This fucking guy. You saw me. The first time I met you, you brought me stuffed animals because I’d jokingly mentioned that the only thing that could make our first meeting perfect was a room full of dogs. You even made me pancakes.

I never thought I’d sleep with someone I wasn’t in a relationship with. Then I met you. I never thought I’d be ok with a one night stand. Then I met you. I never thought it would amount to more than a one night stand. Then you wanted to see me again. I was hooked.

I never stood a chance

Then you told me about your kid. And then you told me about the trial. And then the high chance of a prison sentence. Then you said goodbye. And I was completely destroyed. I’ve never felt so utterly broken in my life. I couldn’t get you out of my head. Literally a 24/7 marathon, just you running through my mind in some way constantly. I went to see Bohemian Rhapsody with my best friend at the theater and I spent the entire time trying not to cry because all I could think about was if you would’ve liked the movie because I knew Queen is your favorite band— and you had had mixed feelings about it when you'd heard they were making the movie.

Your last words to me were, “I WILL be back eventually. That being said. Take care of yourself and I’ll see you on the other side ok? Love you”. Nine months after you said goodbye, you deleted me off of the one thing I could still hold onto you through. And the betrayal was 100% real. I dove into dating apps and genuinely tried to move on for the first time in almost a year. None of it was successful though and the depression just sunk in even deeper. That downhill spiral over the course of a year was something I never want to experience again.

New year, new me

When January 1 came around and the new year started I felt positive, happy, and hopeful for the first time in a long time. I dealt with two weeks of pure hell health wise while going to school full time. I dealt with a bladder infection 2 weeks later. But I still felt positive and hopeful. This year was going to be my year. Good things were coming.

On January 29 I received an email that set the cracks in motion though. “Hi Ms Cora? I’m trying to reach Cora M. I’m not sure if this is the correct email address?”

I shouldn’t have responded. I shouldn’t have let you back in. I shouldn’t have given you the time of day. But I just wanted answers. I just wanted closure. I just wanted peace. I listened. And I told you you're welcome in my life so long as you want to be in it, but this time we would remain platonic. You agreed. I egged you on. We slept together. And that fucking snowball rolled and rolled all over again.

The snowball

We spent the night together almost every time. You came to my house. I let you into my personal life. You invited me on an extended visit. You got touchy and physical in all the right ways. You initiated everything. You paid for nearly everything every time I saw you. You poked fun at me in a playful loving way. You teased me in all the right ways. You said all the right things. You didn't talk to me about us, your expectations, your end goal.

I misread everything

I asked you what we are. Twice. I still don’t really think I’ve gotten a straight answer. But I guess that is my answer.

I don’t know why it upsets me so much. You have too much going on in your life that I just can’t deal with. But I love being around you.

I like how you make me feel. I like that somebody like you shows any interest in me. I like that you're actually capable of keeping a conversation going. I like that you see me. I like that you read. I like that you're so well spoken. I like that you're so intelligent without being arrogant or intimidating. I like that you hold my hand. I like that you play with my hair. I like that you absentmindedly run your fingers along my skin. I like that you understand most of my obscure references. I like how easy you are to talk to. I like that you understand me even when I don’t know what I’m trying to say myself. I like that you actually listen to me. I like that you show interest in what I have to say, even when I have nothing of interest to share.

Knowing what I know now

Knowing that you don't want me for anything else hurts more than it should. Knowing that you can behave like that with me even though you don't love me hurts. Knowing that I let it happen hurts. Knowing that I wasted two fucking years on you hurts. Knowing that I let it happen a second time really hurts. Knowing that it hurts and yet I still don’t want to let go really fucking hurts.

Three years since my first, last, and only relationship. Two years that I’ve been hooked on you. Countless nights crying myself to sleep over somebody who doesn’t even have the courtesy to give me a straight answer or a mature adult conversation about it. A lifetime of insecurities flooding back in to tell me that I’m going to die alone because nobody wants me. I feel empty. I feel broken. I feel used. I feel like damaged goods.