Us.

In the beginning, there was nothing but love. When I first met him, I felt like I was a little school girl with a crush. I could feel my face turning hot and beet red. We had been speaking for some time now on the phone and through text, but we had never seen one another in person. He knew all the right things to say to me; how to make me laugh, how to pick me up when I was in a foul mood. It’s almost as if he had been given a manual on the way to access my heart. The day we first met, we had decided on going on a picnic in Central Park. After walking around for a bit, we found a little remote location in between two trees so tall that they looked like they penetrated the clouds that passed by them. Once we had laid down the blanket and put ourselves on top of it, he had decided to light up the blunt he had rolled for this occasion. I was nervous. I was not the nervous type when it came to men; I would be easily described as the seductive type, having an enchanting way with my words that would lure you in, like a mythological siren. He was just so precious to me; big down-turned eyes, like a Tim Burton character, nice shiny teeth, he took great care of himself, and so tall that he had to look down and I had to look up to talk to him. He fascinated me. After a few pulls, I had asked him such a daring question for our first “date”. “How do you feel about death?”. He looked at me, not judgingly, just bewildered. He wasn’t expecting it, and sincerely, neither was I. I had felt embarrassed once those words escaped from my mouth, wishing I could take it back immediately after saying it. Clearly, I wasn’t very thoughtful with my words when I was under the influence. He laughed, a big roaring laugh, the one that comes out from your stomach. That laugh calmed my nerves down. He was just as weird as I am. Soon after, we had decided to pack up and take the train home together; he lived a few stops after me I had learned. On the train ride home, we spoke of nothingness. Meaningless conversations that made my heart swell up with adoration. Before I knew it, it was already my stop. I had said my goodbyes and got off the train, feeling giddy as ever, until I heard my name being called out. It was him. He had gotten off the train, but why? I stood there on the train platform, watching him walk towards me as the train doors shut behind him and proceeded to the next stop. Once close enough, he grabbed me into a warm embrace and kissed me. It was like a movie scene, all that was missing was the violinist and me raising my leg up during the kiss. I had never felt the way I had during that kiss. No man had ever made the first move towards me, and for this I was even more invested than I already was. The walk home was the best one so far. I couldn’t wait to get home to plan our next meet up. All the emotions I had felt, all the love and excitement, I hoped it would never go away.

The next date was to the Van Gogh Immersive Experience. He had asked my mom for permission to take me out, which I’ve never experienced before so this gave him a few bonus points not only with me but with my mother as well. He knew how much I loved Van Gogh and his pieces, so this exhibition was divine timing for us. He purchased VIP tickets which included a VR experience and a free poster at the end. It also came with a lanyard that I still keep to this day, like a reminder of that beautiful day. I had been so overwhelmed trying to find an outfit that was cute and simple, yet very outgoing in a sense. Something that was provocative only to the dirty mind. I had craved that kind of attention from him. I finally decided on a thigh length, white, spaghetti strap bodycon dress. Pairing that dress with black platforms that were bejeweled with diamonds and a diamond shaped purse. I didn’t want to do my makeup as I was wearing white and it would be hot out, so I had just done some mascara and lipgloss. My hair was in its natural state, and while I had waited for him, I was nervously pacing back and forth, texting and calling my closest friends to show them my outfit, repeatedly asking them if they thought that it looked good enough. This would be my first official date and it was nerve-wracking. Here I am, I thought to myself, a known vixen to men, nervous about going on a date with one. After some time, he had arrived, wearing a striped button down that had looked to be worn only about once or twice, gray pants and New Balance sneakers. I let him in and we went into my room where he had sat on my bed and began to roll up. I laid down beside him and began to take pictures of myself on his phone, unbeknownst to him. Once done, we went down the stairs, took a few pictures in my hallway mirror, and made our way to the train. On the train, we had a staring contest, which I lost. Staring into his eyes I felt like I could lose myself. Those big, inquisitive eyes of his. He, I felt, could read me just by looking into mine. I had given him the nickname bug, in response to his big bug-like eyes. Once off the train, we smoked and made our way to the museum. It was such an amazing experience, especially with my senses heightened, I had felt every painting I had seen, almost like I could feed off the emotion put into each one. After, he had taken me to buy some snacks from the local Korean market and we went home. I was undoubtedly falling in love, and while it was scary to me, it was something I was okay with.

He asked me to be his girlfriend not long after that. We had been at my house watching a movie in my living room, well, “watching”. By this I mean that we were kissing on my couch. I was straddling him, cupping his face in my hands and saying ‘I love you’ with no words, only kisses. When we had stopped, I had looked at him and I could tell there was something on his mind. Curious, I asked him what was wrong. After a few seconds of silence, he had asked me so timidly if I had wanted to be his girlfriend. “What?”,I asked nervously. He repeated his question and after thinking for some time, I agreed. His smile was from ear to ear. He was beyond the moon at this point. As was I. I was so invested in him and what we were growing together. I was in love.

After some months, which people call the “honeymoon stage”, arguments began to blossom. Miniscule ones at first, but over a course of time, they had grown to become bigger than they were. There was an extreme lack of effort, my trust issues were getting in between us, and the anger and rage I felt was taken out on him. It was like we no longer understood each other, like I didn’t know who he was anymore and vice versa.

I had gone away for the weekend with my family. We had planned to go to a hotel for three days and he couldn’t come. He had made plans to go away while I went. He said he wanted to go visit his family upstate being that he hadn’t seen them in a long time. I was a bit uneasy, but I couldn’t impede him from going, plus, he would be with family, so I had nothing to worry about. The day that he was dated to go, it was as if the Universe was not on his side. Nothing was going right for him; the train wasn’t arriving and when it would arrive, his ticket would have expired, the station was hot and his phone and laptop were on the verge of dying. I warned him of these signs, and he just shrugged them off and still went. Everything was fine. We had video chatted everyday, and there wasn’t a second where my mind didn’t think of him. It was as if he lived there permanently, and while I didn’t mind this, something just felt off. The last night there, my mother and I had decided to drink by the poolside and just hang out. He was also drinking with his cousins during this time being that it was a celebration going on. We were texting consistently during this time, and when I had gotten back to my hotel room, his texts just abruptly stopped coming in. Confused, but too drunk, I went to sleep and planned on texting him the next day. The following morning, once I had arrived home, he had texted me that he planned on staying for one more day being that he missed his train, but there was a rumor going around that he had had sexual relations with one of his cousins. When I had read these words, my heart started beating so fast, I could feel it beating with my hand hovering over my chest, and a sense of disgust washed over me. He quickly told me that the rumors were false but had also gotten upset when I was asking him questions regarding the rumor. It was so disgusting to me, I didn’t know how to respond to him. For the first time in my life, I was at a loss for words. Still, I decided to believe him and place into my head that he was telling me the truth. However, in the back of my mind, I couldn’t shake the fact that he could be lying to me.

A few weeks later, we had gotten into another argument. He had been in contact with a girl I had asked him to block months ago due to their prior history. Me being me, I had decided to log into all of his social media accounts just to see what else he was hiding. I stumbled across a social media handle that I did not recognize so I had decided to save it onto my phone. During our phone call that night, I had told him that we needed to start on a fresh slate, but first we needed to admit all wrongdoings. After I had confessed that I may have been texting other men here and there, it was his turn to speak. He had admitted to flirting with other women via text messages and then grew quiet. My heart began beating and my chest felt extremely heavy. “Say it. Say what you did.” After a few moments of silence, he began, “When I was upstate..”. I started to bawl. I cried so hard that I had no more air in my body and struggled to breathe. This man, that I had devoted my life to, that I had entrusted with my mind, body, and soul, had deceived me. While upstate, he had gotten drunk to the point where he was incoherent. Him and the family friend, who he refers to as his cousin, had been in a room and started playing around, which led into making out and touching, not sex. I have never felt so betrayed by a man the way I did now. How could he possibly touch another woman, and not have me in the back of his mind? How could he be so selfish and so careless to hurt me in this way? Was I not enough? Did I ever fail him? I cried myself to sleep that night, he stayed on the phone making sure I was safe. He came over two days later and we sat in the car to talk. I was so upset. I hadn’t eaten since I found out, and being that I had just recovered from an intense eating disorder, this wasn’t good. In the car, he went into depth of the situation and looked remorseful, or was it fear that flashed in his eyes? I couldn’t distinguish it. I didn’t know who he was anymore. I showed him the social media handle that I had found and asked who it was. It was her. At that point, I had lost all calm. I started to shout and hit him, screaming how much I hated him. I had gotten so worked up, that I had opened the car door and threw up onto the street. It was a foamy white throw up, just my stomach acid and mucus eating away at each other in search of the food I wasn’t able to feed it. He had asked me to give him another chance - begged me to, and idiotically I had agreed. I had loved him so much, and although he had hurt me drastically, he had become like a drug to me, and I was an addict. I felt as though I couldn’t be without him, like my life would end without him. I had agreed only if he would be willing to put in the work, otherwise, this would have all been for nothing, and he did put in the work. He did, but my own insecurities had started to arise. I found myself constantly wondering what he was doing and if he was still being unfaithful. Constantly looking at myself in the mirror and trying to see what that girl had that I didn’t. What could I change about myself for him to want me, to desire me the same way he did when it all began.

Time after, the efforts began to diminish and it was like he didn’t really care at all. When he would say that he loved me, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t FEEL the love he had claimed to have for me, so how could that be true? We had decided to take a break a short time after. Constantly asking for him to put in the work and effort as if he was a child was draining me. I was emotionally detached and I wasn’t the same anymore. I had little to no self love and my life revolved completely around our relationship and making sure we were okay. I just couldn’t do it anymore. This break would show me if this was truly what he wanted. If I were truly worth it in his eyes. Meanwhile, I would work on myself. Do things for me, not us. Hang out with my friends, begin college and make new ones, and improve on things I had wanted to improve on for a long time. I started journaling every night before bed and wearing a waist trainer everyday, reassuring myself that I was still that vixen, only much wiser and more confident.

While I still find myself questioning if this relationship is even worth the time I have put into it, I am growing slowly to accept and love myself. Men come and go, but I will have my back until the very end, so why waste all the love on one man, when I could give that to myself? One man breaking my heart isn’t the end of my story and I can’t let the negativity ruin the peace I am building back up. By becoming spiritually awakened, being one with myself and my thoughts and accepting that I am worthy of equal love that I give out, I am falling in love with myself all over again. This time, this relationship with myself, I will not let a man come between us and I will never fully give myself to a man the same way again. I come first, forever and always.