by Chelsea Wolfe
I’m not sure if you remember the first time you ever broke my heart. Though you never said it directly, I know what I did broke yours. I remember the feelings, the events, the nothingness, like it all happened yesterday.
I was eight months pregnant with our daughter. I was happy, excited, I thought you were too – maybe you were in your own way. I remember noticing the differences in your personality. I shrugged it all off, I blamed it on the pregnancy hormones. I blamed everything on the hormones during that time. Maybe if I had listened to my instinct’s things would have been different. But I didn’t.
We were house sitting while your parents were gone. It was late August, before classes started for me. We were watching over your brothers too, two out of three of them. I had work the next morning but you guys didn’t have to do anything. The three of you were upstairs playing video games on the 60-something inch TV. You boys always took advantage to play video games on the giant screen while you’re parents were out of town – who wouldn’t?
I was downstairs trying to sleep. My thoughts were running a million miles a minute. Your phone was flashing. It was a notification for something that was insignificant. Honestly I don’t remember what it was for because in that moment something urged me to look through your phone. I’m not sure why. Maybe it was to relieve the feeling of something being wrong with you. That you were hiding something.
It did the opposite though. Because you were hiding something. I remember seeing the same on your messages. Caroline Jean Succubus. I remember thinking that I shouldn’t be going through your phone, that I had nothing to worry about. But I was wrong.
“I love you”
“I love you too”
“I do. I don’t care who either of us are with. Or that you have children. I just want to be with you”
I don’t remember everything I read. The only thing that is still clear as day, even years later, is the I-love-you’s. I felt numb for a while as I stared at the messages. I kept trying to convince myself it was all a dream, that I would wake up.
But I didn’t. And as the minutes ticked by I cried to myself as quietly as I could while I thought over what to do. If you didn’t want me anymore why were you still with me? Was it only because I was pregnant? I wasn’t going to force you to stay with me.
If you didn’t want me I wasn’t going to stay around. I grabbed my things and put my shoes on. I couldn’t stop my crying. I would blame the hormones like I used to but I know now it was because I was heartbroken. No amount of hormones, or lack thereof, was going to change that.
I could hear you and your brothers having fun up the stairs while I was silently dying inside. I felt like my heart was going to stop. I tried as quietly as I could to stay quiet. I thought maybe I could slip by without you guys seeing me. It didn’t work.
“Where are you going?”
Your voice rang out and I couldn’t even look at you as I ran out and closed the door behind me. My vision was blurry from crying so much. I could barely see where I was going. But I tried to rush to my car, hoping that I could get in and leave before you came after me.
You caught me when I reached the end of the garage. I was so close. You made me face you and asked what was wrong. I tried to stop crying, but the tears kept falling. You hugged me, I almost believed you cared. You begged me to tell you what was wrong.
I asked if you loved me. You said of course. Then I looked up at you.
“But you love Caroline too right?”
I don’t know if you realized this, but your entire body became rigid and stiff. You looked at me but I don’t even think you saw me as you uttered a single word: “what?” I could see I had caught you off guard. Of all the things for your pregnant girlfriend to be crying about, it was almost as if you didn’t expect it to be over me finding out that you were cheating, that you were in love with someone else.
I tried to turn and walk away but you stopped me again. You tried to play it off like you didn’t know what I was talking about. But I knew. And you knew I knew. You were caught, and you couldn’t talk yourself out of it. You couldn’t try and convince me that I was acting crazy because of the hormones. And we both know that was your favorite go-to excuse.
I tried to leave that night, but you wouldn’t let me. To this day I’m not really sure why. Things would have simpler if you had. Or maybe they wouldn’t have. I remember that I couldn’t see the rest of the night because I couldn’t stop crying. Maybe I would have crashed because of it. I think about that now, years later. It was better that you had convinced me to stay.
We talked for a long time that night. I tried to let you make the situation better. But I was numb from everything the rest of the night except your touch. You might have thought I needed you to touch me, but your touch revolted me that night. All I could picture was your hands on another girl and it made me cry even more.
That was the only time I felt for the next few days was when you touched me. The world around me kept turning but it felt like I was stuck in this single moment that I couldn’t get away from. You thought I was going to leave you. I thought about it. Maybe I should have. I stayed though, and we moved on. Things were okay for a while. But they were never the same. I was always checking your phone. Trying to keep tabs on you. I should’ve known right then that our relationship had now become something we would one day no longer be able to handle. Things only got worse from there.
That was the first time I ever felt true heartbreak. I had always been the girl that left a boy before he could break my heart. Before I could fall for him. But you were different. When I fell for you, I fell hard. And when I landed, you weren’t there to catch me. You were there to help me up but gone before I could stand on my own again. You know what I’m hinting at. I’ll get there eventually. Because you see Cody, you broke my heart into a million pieces and left me to put myself back together again. So I’m writing you letters. I want you to remember the things I remember. I want you to feel what I felt. I want you to feel the heartbreak that I still feel even years later. Because while I have forgiven you for everything, I can never forget the pain, the anguish, the lies, the hatred, the heartache.
My memories will die with me one day. But my words? Those will be forever. And so you will know my heartbreak and you’ll remember it. Just like I do.