Regret for “Love”
You destroyed me. You made me think I was completely in love. You even made me think you were completely in love with me. We were the couple that some didn’t like, but we never really cared.
Ratings, “goals”, none of that mattered to us because we were perfectly fine on our own instead of trying to be a couple that people see online.
But what I didn’t see coming was the abuse — the fake love, the advantage you took over me. Of course I didn’t see it though, I was blinded by what I thought was love.
You were my best friend’s boyfriend at the time (who I shall not name), you were much slimmer than you are now. Very tall — but everyone’s tall to me. You were like what? Almost 6 feet? You guys made out on her basement floor while I sat on the fouton and watched a movie while eating Jalapeno Cheetos. She went upstairs to get us all something to drink, and you perched yourself right next to me.
“Don’t touch my Cheetos with your cummy, nasty-ass hands!”
That was the first thing I ever said to you.
The next time we spoke was when you were arguing with my best friend, trying to get me to help you with her. Things then ended with you two…maybe not in a good state, but they ended. And that was when we stopped talking.
New Year’s. 2014.
You called me. Why?
You told me you were leaving the fakes in 2013, and wanted to keep the real ones with you — and I was one of them.
Luckily for you, I was excited you wanted to be friends with me. Oh yea, I also wasn’t friends with your ex anymore so it all worked out well I guess.
You helped me with all my friend issues, boyfriend issues, everything I needed. When I felt lonely you always called me and tried to make me feel better. I appreciate that, I really do. However, I hated talking on the phone all the time, I wanted to hang out. You influenced my feelings too because you always asked me things like,
“When are you coming to see me?” “When can I visit you?”
I finally picked a nice extremely hot summer day for you to come over and spend the day with me inside.
8/26/14
When you got off the bus, I was smiling ear to ear. I ran back inside. The puppy love continues. You asked me out after you kissed me and handed me a rose. Typical movie-type of romance thing going on. I said yes of course, I was completely head over heels for your dumb ass.
Let’s skip to almost two years later. February 2016.
I broke up with you. Enough was enough, I was tired of how you treated me, how you never cared for my family, it was like you became this fuckboy who only cared about my body — about how I look like to other people when I’m with you.
Holiday’s are over. You keep calling and texting but you never fucking listen. I told you,
“I’m done, Richard. I’m being serious…out of all the times I’ve said I’m done with you, I mean it this time.”
Matthew and I sat at the lunch table waiting for Nathan, Sherika and Kelly to come back inside with our food to have our normal, loud, argument-filled lunch. I took off my jacket because I was getting hot.
“Where’d you get that from?”
He was staring at the bruise on my arm. Dark and black, the size of a tennis ball, with a hint of purple and red as the outline.
Fuck me.
“Funny story, I slipped on the ice outside...”
He stared at me. Before he spoke again, I didn’t know whether or not he was staring at me because he knew I was lying, or at the fact that I got a bruise like that.
“Can I call you later tonight?”
“Sure…”
Why did he not ask anything else? Or even comment on my lie about how I got it? It crossed my mind throughout the day. Even though I was highly bothered by his reaction, I told myself not to get worked up because we weren’t that close to begin with.
7:30pm
My mom’s still not home and you keep fucking calling me. Stop, Richard, stop. I answer. It’s Matthew.
“You know…I think you’re an amazing girl, and you shouldn’t be treated like that Lysandra. You do everything for your friends, even people you don’t like. If Richard’s abusing you, you need to tell someone.”
LOL. Matthew, out of all people is telling me about my relationship. But I end up cracking to him. I told him everything about you. I told him about that time we argued and I pushed you out my way to leave and how you threw me to stay and I cried because you actually hurt me, but instead of comforting me and making up, you left me in the room to sleep. I told him about that time we were play fighting and you punched me hard I screamed at you and you slapped me to shut up. I told him about the other time we play fought and you slammed my head on the floor after pinning me down, and just left me there in shock and pain. I told him I found out you were messaging other girls the same things you were messaging me. I told him you cheated on me the week of our first anniversary. I told him how you worked more than I did, but somehow I paid for everything that we did — and you know that’s not an exaggeration, that is completely a fact because you wanted to stay “rich.”
Boy oh boy this could go on forever. Point is, I told him everything you’ve ever done wrong to me. He didn’t like it one bit. He caught more feelings than I expected and I was confused at why? Did Matthew want to be close friends like how I am with Sher, Kells and Nates? Or did he have a crush on me?
“Lysandra. I treat all my true friends so good. If you were my girlfriend, I’d treat you better than the King treats the Queen. I would show you what true love really is. You’re in love with the thought of being in love, and that’s not how it should be.”
Oh brother.
The last person on Earth that I actually never thought about, is telling me about love. And I came to realize, you’re not him. You’re not it. You were never supposed to be the person I gave everything up to. But yet I did. Maybe Matthew was God’s sign to me that it’s time to have our heartbreak now and move on with our lives, separately.
I call you after deeply talking with Matthew for about an hour or more. You tell me to give you the My Princess ring from Pandora you bought me for our anniversary, and the gold Guess charm bracelet you bought me for my birthday. My mom wasn’t too happy you had also threatened me if I didn’t give a gift back to you, more so because you even asked for a present back. But I didn’t care because I had already used pliers and took out the jewel from the ring anyways. Plus the less things of yours, the better.
My mom drove me to your place to give your two pieces of shit back and that was that. I started to hang out with Matthew more, going over to his house with everyone else, lining up with him for every pair of shoes he wants. It was nice. A change. A better change. No more YOU.
Or so, I had thought…
