Nothing Could Go Wrong...

I lay awake in our bed, wondering how we got to this point. Just yesterday, you told me that you loved me. You would hold my hand, walk proudly with me in public and smile with awe every time I did something amazing (whether for you or myself). Not a day passed that you wouldn't just hold me in your strong arms and enjoy my presence. I remember the day we first met. Even though we had a relationship online, it was like accidentally bumping into the perfect stranger. I couldn't keep my eyes off you and your smile gave me butterflies. The sound of your voice was like a a choir of angels singing me to a place of serenity. With your hand entwined with mine, I felt like nothing could go wrong because we were two imperfect people that became perfect with each other. The night of our first sleep over was pretty cool because I remember just sitting on the bed with you: messy hair, full stomach and a blanket wrapped over my legs. You were also the first guy I had a sleep over with...We sat opposite each other in the dim room and just stared at each other for a moment. That moment, for me, was when I realized that we had arrived. We were in love, and we didn't really have to say it to confirm it, because we already knew this... At that moment, I knew nothing could go wrong... " I'm sorry to say this but I don't love you anymore. I no longer find you physically attractive. I feel as though the girl in the pictures I have of you is more beautiful than you are. What I feel for you isn't enough to sustain this relationship... " The text message I got the night of our last phone call, just after I had told you I loved you and you hung up on me. For days thereafter, I cried. For weeks I didn't want anyone to visit me, I didn't want any guy to penetrate my bubble of mourning. I mourned our potential, not what we had. I believe, even today, that what we had hasn't died and it's evident in the way we talk to each other today... Every morning I await a message from you asking me to let you in, the evenings are spent wondering if you'll call just to hear my voice. Two years after you tore my heart to shreds, I still feel excited when we talk. I have a habit of going through your Twitter and Facebook profiles just to see if you've said anything about me... Maybe one day, you'll mention my name. For now, I'll hold onto hope that nothing can go wrong...