Too often, relationships are not taken seriously. People cheat on each other, lie to each other, and mistreat each other. It’s easy when there are distractions such as incoming texts and Snapchats and it’s an easy out of a fight when you just grab your phone. Trust is rare nowadays because we’re always looking for “the next best thing”.

We start to forget what we have and what we truly want. I fell victim to that.

There are no words to describe how remorseful and regretful I feel for my actions that I had conducted. I hadn’t been the best girlfriend to the best boyfriend.

I wasn’t who I wanted to be because I got too caught up with the need to feel wanted. I wanted to prove that I could get other guys and that I wasn’t stuck in just one relationship with someone who could potentially hurt me. I lost sight of who I truly loved and focused on those that shouldn’t have ever taken up my time.

At the time, I didn’t realize I was doing this. I was simply trying to live life shallowly and in protection of myself from getting hurt. But by doing that, I hurt the one that I loved the absolute most. I hurt the love of my life because I was afraid of getting hurt.

Every time he attempted to explain how he felt, I would pick up my phone to avoid listening to him or I would mutter some meaningless apology just to move on with the conversation. In fact, a part of me liked having this conversation because I felt that when he was chasing me, he was showing me he loved me. I should’ve known it was him trying to tell me how hurt he was and how I was about to lose him. I didn’t realize that I was about to lose him because he kept coming back.

He kept putting himself through so much hurt just to be with me.

I didn’t understand how someone could love me like he did, when I couldn’t even love myself. I couldn’t even muster enough strength to understand why he would want to be faithful to me. I struggled with so many insecurities, I was risking his love for flirtation with people that I didn’t mean anything to.

I was living on the wire and it was exhilarating. I was cold. I was distant. I told him how much I loved him without even thinking of what that meant or required. It required attention, faithfulness, and love; of which I threw away when I was unfaithful.

It wasn’t like I didn’t want to be with him. I wanted nothing more. I wanted nothing more than to have a stable relationship where we both were able to love each other whole-heartedly without worrying about who else the other person was talking to. But at the time, I didn’t understand that. I didn’t understand that even though my parents had a rough relationship, I didn’t have to have a rough one and that I was worthy of all the good that came my way. I didn’t understand that we didn’t have to talk to each other the way that my parents did in front of me.

Growing up, watching my parents was like watching a sitcom. Except it never ended and was the reality. However, it was so toxic that I should’ve viewed it as a sitcom. I should’ve gotten away from the middle of their fighting way before I did. I wish they hadn’t fought over me. I wish they had respected me enough to understand that I didn’t need to hear that fighting. The same fighting that I’ve brought into my own relationship. The same fighting that has gotten me nowhere except hurting people that love me.

The sound that I got used to hearing was raised voices. I never heard gentleness. I heard passive aggressiveness, pettiness, screaming, and teasing. I never heard loving voices or soft and kind voices towards each other which led me to believe relationships weren’t like that. This led me to believe I’m not worthy of receiving a gentle touch from someone who loves me, or even that someone could love me without raising their voice. That’s why it’s so comforting to hear raised voices towards me. It’s familiar. While that may seem twisted, and it is, it is something that I work towards every day to get out of.

When we broke up, it brought back all of these whirlwind emotions of not being good enough that I deserve to be left. But in fact, he left because I treated him like he wasn’t good enough. I treated him the way that I was afraid of being treated. I treated him the way that I was afraid of being treated so that I wouldn’t be the one that was fooled again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on.. you. I wasn’t willing to get fooled twice.

I wasn’t willing to be vulnerable to make it to my “fool me twice, shame on me” phase. Instead, I jumped straight to “fool me twice, shame on you”. I wasn’t willing to stick around to see if he would fool me. I already expected him to and put him in the bad position of being shamed when it was really my own issue.


I’m not saying he was perfect the entire time, but I know I wasn’t always the best. I know that I put him through more hurt than I had the right to.

As the sun rises, so must we.