When love hurts

It was one of those days; I needed a walk to clear my head from its constant thoughts. I was scared I would break down in tears again if I stayed in bed.

I just found out he was engaged all along; I gave him the best three years of my life. I met him when I was 22, I thought he would be the one, my always, and forever story. I thought wrong because it's his wedding today. Tomorrow is my 25th birthday, and I just want to die.

I get so upset at myself realizing I saw all the signs; he saved her name as "wifey" but told me she was his little sister whom he adored. How stupid was I to believe him?

It's my third, maybe fourth time past this street, and people are beginning to look at me weird. I don't blame them. I stare at my reflection from a parked car. Yeah, I look crazy; a dirty top I haven't gotten around to changing in days, my once clear skin starting to break out, or my mismatched slippers, not forgetting my braids I pulled out a few days ago.

"I love him so much." It's driving me crazy. Should I go to the wedding and do what I see in movies? Object and watch his life go in flames like mine. Let me take you back to a week ago when everything was perfect.

He came over as always for the weekend. I never understood why I couldn't sleep over at his place. It's been three years since we have been dating, but I have only been to his place twice. He always had a weird reason that made sense to me.

I was in his arms just after amazing sex as usual. I remember our first time; we had just celebrated our one-year anniversary, and he was telling me how much it would mean to him if he was my first. I already imagined our future kids; we would have beautiful children that had his clear eyes and full brows. I always told him so. It was no brainer when he took off my clothes, and I didn't object.

This weekend, though, I felt something was off. He wasn't as gentle with me; there was this urgency with him that I couldn't shake off. I pulled back from our cuddling and asked him what was wrong. At first, he said nothing and got dressed to watch a football game in the living room. I showered too and decided to cook. He was probably hungry, which was causing him to be cranky.

I guess he forgot his phone was connected to my Bluetooth speaker because a call came in, and immediately he picked up. There was a female telling him how she couldn't wait to spend forever with him as from next weekend. He disconnected from the speaker too late; I already heard enough.

I walked out to confront him with tears in my eyes. "There's not to it, babe," he said with those lips I used to find irresistible. "We will continue like we always have; nothing will change," as he tried to get me in his arms. "Nothing will change?" I screamed. "How long has it been with her?" I asked.

"Seven years," he said. I lost it at this point. He didn't cheat on me; we cheated on her.