By Emmeline Bisiikwa, Uganda:
I knew it would hurt like hell when you met someone else. I kept running it through my mind; you, doing all those things you did with me with some other girl. I guess I couldn't actually imagine it, it felt like something new. I kept away from your profile, knowing it was just like you to flaunt your new catch. It seemed like the only way you were sure I would get the message that I meant absolutely nothing to you.
I kept thinking about it today, what I would feel if you were actually intimate with someone else. My heart clenched and I felt like I couldn't get enough air. The notion didn't compare to how I felt when I actually checked your profile.
I had been holding on to the thought of you some days because it is all I had left when I had to give up this relationship. But seeing you using some girl's picture so casually when you couldn't do the same for me in the odd 700 or so days you were mine and I was yours felt like someone cut off my oxygen supply. I felt like I couldn't breathe, it hurt so bad to even think about you loving someone or thinking of making her happy.
It felt like I meant nothing to you because you couldn't even wait some time before replacing me. It felt like you ran and grabbed the first passable female you could find just to hurt me. But beneath that, what hurts the most was the feeling that you had defiled something sacred. I asked if you loved her and you said you did. Those words killed the little bits of me that were still alive.
I can't put into words how much it hurts to lose you again. Our time together flashed in my mind, the little sweet things you did for me that now felt made up. Did you care or was I just some salve to your ego?
It hurts so much that all those hours and days spent together were nothing but a game to you. Some silly game where you got to toy around with my feelings yet at the same time, getting what you wanted. Sort of like an unfair trade where I gave you all of me and in return got a half assed excuse of a relationship.
A part of me resents how little you tried to do the things I needed all the while asking more and more of me to make you happy. I was nothing but a game to you and you definitely played your part so well. The doubt cuts into me like chain saws worrying away at my conscious and I keep asking myself over and over again if for one second it was ever real and if you meant the things you said and did.
Oh well, this is the part where I pick up my broken resolve to move on and fix it. Scotch tape or glue, I don't care what it takes but I have to get past this, past you.
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