My first real, adult, serious relationship. I fell hard and fast, head over heels. He made me laugh and he filled every day with a light that I can’t even begin to explain. Prior to him I had no desire for a relationship, I was so completely content and happy on my own. And then he swept me off my feet. Saying all the right things, pushing all the right buttons. I told him I loved him, he didn’t feel it just yet. That was okay, I understood. Fast forward nearly a year later and still no change. One more month, and it’s over. He didn’t love me, he never did, and he couldn’t see it ever happening. There wasn’t a thing more I could have given him. I put every little piece of me, every fibre of my being, on a silver platter for him. And he took it. All of it. And then left me with nothing, left me AS nothing.

My chest aches in the hole where my heart once was. It longs for something that was never truly mine. Everyone tries to give their advice, tell their stories, but none of them know how it feels to have the light of their life look them in the eyes, and say “this isn’t going to work. I don’t love you.”

And on our anniversary.