I’ve always been the type to keep my head down and focus on my goals. I’m 21, in my third year of engineering school, and everything I do, every choice I make, is with my future in mind. I’ve sacrificed a lot to get here—late nights, weekends, even my social life. So when I met her, I thought maybe I finally found someone who could make all this stress a little easier to carry. She was fun, spontaneous, full of energy. The opposite of me in a lot of ways, but I liked that. She made me laugh, pulled me out of my shell, reminded me what it felt like to live a little. At first, it was amazing. I felt like we balanced each other out. I’d be buried in assignments, and she’d bring over takeout and just chill with me, no pressure. But things started shifting. The parties became constant. The calls stopped. The texts were shorter. And eventually, the rumors started.

At first I didn’t believe them. I didn’t want to. People talk, right? Especially in college. I told myself they were just jealous, or didn’t know what they were talking about. But then I started noticing things—Snapchats from clubs she said she wasn’t going to, random guys commenting stuff that didn’t sit right, her suddenly not answering for hours when she used to be glued to her phone. And yeah, I finally asked. She denied it, of course. Said I was being paranoid, that I didn’t trust her. And I felt guilty for even bringing it up. But then I saw it with my own eyes. Twice. Two different guys. And still she acted like I was overreacting. "It didn’t mean anything," she said. "I was drunk, it was a mistake." But it wasn’t a mistake if it happened more than once. It wasn’t an accident. It was a choice. And I can’t lie—it broke something in me.

The thing is, I know I should leave. Everyone tells me to. My friends are fed up with watching me go through this cycle of betrayal and fake apologies. But I haven’t. Not yet. I wish I could explain why. Maybe it's because I'm scared to be alone. I spent so much time focused on school that she became my only real escape. My only comfort. And now, even with all the lies, part of me still wants her to care. Still wants her to be who she was at the beginning. I keep holding on to the memory of that girl, even though I know she’s not coming back. And it makes me feel weak, honestly. Like I’m not the guy I thought I was. I always prided myself on being strong, being focused, having self-respect. But here I am, stuck in this mess, not knowing how to let go of someone who clearly doesn't value me. I'm torn between not wanting to be alone and not being able to accept the idea of staying with someone who could hurt me like that. I don’t know how to fix it, or if I even should. All I know is I’m tired. Tired of pretending I’m fine. Tired of the lies. Tired of loving someone who doesn’t love me back the right way.

Stories in the same category