Just a fling?

I told myself this was just a fling. My heart felt light — no angst, no worries about where the relationship was headed. Just when I wanted to see him, is when it was convenient for him, too. All the fun parts without the hard. I didn’t care if he messaged me first, if he paid for meals, or if he held my hand. I just knew being around him every now and again gave me clear contentment. It was different than the others I had been dating these past few years since X. I wasn’t shackled by worries; I felt free with him.

So, I refused to let him in. Just a fling. I was stubborn about not getting hurt again.

It crept up on me. Moments where I thought perhaps whatever it was that we had could be something real. A small feeling of warmth or a fleeting feeling of fluttering butterflies. It was an extremely slow burn, but I couldn’t stop it. I was undeniably drawn to him. The confident way he stood, the smile in his eyes, and the clarity of his focus on me. Even if we did not see each other frequently, I felt like he was 100% mine when we were together.

Unconsciously, I handed my heart over little by little. Piece by piece until he had enough to hurt me.

And without the knowledge he had this power, he did just that.

Originally written 1/29/2016