Lack of messages. Missed dates. Excuses. Diverted attention. 

 

I wasn't the smartest person in class, passing with Bs and Cs that I was contented with, but I wasn't dumb.

 

I wasn't stupid to not notice that my boyfriend was cheating on me. 

 

Ever since school had started this year, he had been awfully distant. He barely messaged me every day if I didn't message him first. His replies are always short with simple "ok" and "night". He seemed to not use his phone often, I reasoned to myself at first, but all the time he was with me, he was on his phone, busy typing his heart away until our break time ticked out. I valued his privacy, and mostly because I didn't want to snoop and him hating me for it, so I never peeked over who he was texting. 

 

It wasn't just once that he had missed our date every weekend. Six times. All pardoned with the same excuse: "I'm sorry, I forgot." 

 

Whenever I asked him to accompany me somewhere, to help me with homework, to any ideas I could make up just to spend time with him, he would give me a reason why he couldn't go and it was always followed by "Next time, okay?" 

 

Once when we were out with our friends, them busy chatting and laughing, I asked him if he still loves me. He didn't catch it at first. "Huh? What did you say?" I couldn't bring myself to ask for the second time and just settled with a shake of my head and smile. 

 

Twice had my friends told me of their suspicion of my boyfriend seeing another girl. Twice I rejected the idea because it was all suspicions and "what if's". I told them I love him and I won't believe it until I see it with my own eyes. 

 

Every night I wondered what I did wrong, where I went wrong, what I did for him to drift away from me. I looked to my flaws and blamed myself for not being able to fix any of them. How could I fix them? 

 

Every night I wondered who could the girl be, if she was pretty, must be prettier than I would ever be, if she was nice, if she was a lot better than I would ever be. 

 

Every time these thoughts invade my head, I would cry myself to sleep. I was weak and that was all I could do. 

 

I saw it with my own eyes. Him cheating. The image of him holding another girl's hand, smiling and simply happy embracing another girl. He was happy. 

 

I saw them. He saw me. The look of horror dawned on his face. Fear. Guilt. But there was no regret. No more love. 

 

It felt like reality came crushing down in a form of a heavy debris. My body felt numb. My mind felt empty. My heart had sank down. 

 

I felt nothing but heartbreak. 

 

"Why didn't you just tell me?" I asked him, uncuntrollable tears rolling down my face. I looked pathetic in front of him, in front of the girl. "Why didn't you just tell me you don't love me anymore?"

 

His lips opened and closed, but no words were coming out. 

 

From the moment he stopped looking at me with the same gaze as before, that one soft look he always gave me before the words "I love you" slipped from his tongue, I knew I had lost him. 

 

He wasn't mine anymore. 

 

I smiled through my tears falling past my lips, through the fresh set blurring my sight of him, through the memories of us together replaying back in my mind. 

 

It was goodbye. 

 

I took off my necklace, took his hand, and dropped the object on his palm. I smiled through it all. 

 

I looked back into his eyes and told him one thing I regretted after all those times. 

 

"I'm sorry I no longer can make you happy."