When the One You Love Disappoints You

Is It Worth Forgiving?

We’d been dating for 3 years now and I had never experienced a bond like this one. And, it was getting stronger the more we were together. We knew everything about each other. So much so, if we played that dating game where the host asks one couple about their partner, we’d ace it.

Within our group of friends, we were together the longest, and many people commented on how comfortable we were together. Without realizing we had become that couple in our group who everyone looked up to.

People saw what was on the surface. Not that we weren’t being authentic in public, just that we were a private couple. No one knew about the pregnancy scare. Or the argument we had the previous week about another girl.

We both had part-time jobs and with that comes interacting with people outside of school. One day, my friend, who also worked with my boyfriend, told me one of their co-workers was making it obvious she liked my boyfriend and she thought my boyfriend was leading her on.

“What are you talking about,” I asked her

“I’m sorry, I feel you need to know. Did you know they went to play pool last week?” she asked me

My heart stopped and I couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t happening.

“He went to play pool with her. Her, John and Billy,” she continued

I could feel my body go numb and the heat travel up from my neck, chin, and forehead. All I could see was red. There was no texting back then, so I had to wait until break to question my lying, cheating boyfriend. That is what he was to me at this point.

The bell rang, and I watched him walk toward our lockers. I stared at him, my eyes throwing angry darts with fire and when our eyes met, I could tell he felt these imaginary darts. He knew I was mad but just didn’t know what I was mad about.

“What’s wrong?” He asked

“Let’s go to the library to talk — I’m skipping next class,” I told him as he followed me into the library.

“You never miss class,” he said with curiosity

“I’ve never felt the need to until now,” I responded firmly.

As we sit across from each other at the table in the library, he looks at me and asks:

“What’s wrong, you’re scaring me,”

“You should be scared,” I respond. And the interrogation begins.

“Do you tell me everything? Like the important stuff,” I asked him

“Yes,”

“Hmm, so you don’t purposely withhold things from me?”

“No,”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t lie to me,”

“No,”

“Really, because I just caught you in 3 lies. You didn’t tell me you played pool last week with her, you purposely withheld this from me and when I asked you about it, you lied right to my face. You’re unfucking believable. Who are you? I don’t even know you.

“I’m sorry,” he says “I didn’t think it was a big deal because John and Billy came with us,”

“If you didn’t think it was a big deal, you would have told me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I thought you’d be mad,”

“Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know,”

“You do know. You know she has a thing for you, don’t you?”

“Yes,”

“Do you have a thing for her?”

“No — not at all, I love you!”

“If you love me, you would have told me about this and I wouldn’t have found out by someone else. If you love me, you wouldn’t have gone in the first place because you know she has a thing for you and you’d be just leading her on,”

We sat there staring at each other for a few minutes until I broke the silence.

“I can’t be with someone who I can’t trust and who lies to me,”

I see a tear roll down his face.

“Should I know about anything else?” I asked him

“No, nothing happened, we all just played pool,”

“I’m willing to forgive this but I will not tolerate this again. If you purposely withhold something like this from me again, we’re done,”

“Okay,”

I don’t care if you go out with friends, but if you go out with her again, we’re done.

“Okay,”

We walk out of the library with another shift in our relationship. We weren’t the perfect couple everyone thought we were — or that I thought we were.

I was still mad, disappointed and hurt. I had put my boyfriend on a pedestal and it was only a matter of time before I was reminded he was human.

And, it should be noted, over the years I reminded him I was human too.

To Be Continued…


This piece is part of a 52 Week Writing Challenge where I’m writing and sharing my love story.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.