Fake Love

He held me close and whispered in my ear, “The thing is, I never stop thinking about you.”
I’d waited so long to hear him say something like that. I felt so emotional; the tears just started pouring down my cheeks. I wanted him to tell me he loved me but that part never came…
My face was suddenly a lot closer to his than it needed to be. My cheeks started to burn and it seemed like everything was beginning to condensate. We were breathing so close, our lips were so close. I had so many mixed feelings; I wanted to kiss him but I knew it would only end in me getting hurt. I knew he wanted to kiss me too. It was like I was waiting for him to make the move so that I wouldn’t have to blame myself for the pain afterwards. Maybe, just maybe he was waiting for me do exactly the same for exactly the same reasons. He’s not stupid – everyone knows I love him.
 I brushed my lips across his stubble and breathed slowly and softly on his skin. I looked up into his big grey eyes and lingered for a second or two. Before I knew it, my lips were pressed against his. He was so delicate with me. Then I opened my eyes and reality hit me like a smack in the face. I pushed him away. “Why are you doing this?” I was already starting to feel the hurt. “You know how much I care about you… Everyone knows how much I care about you.”
Instead of declaring his undying love for me like I wanted him to, his short reply somehow seemed so blunt. “I guess it’s just my weakness. I get too emotionally involved with you. You’re an attractive girl and you never know if you’re going to wake up tomorrow.”
BOOM. I think that was my heart being ripped out of my chest and thrown on the floor.
“I think you’re just scared of committing to your girlfriend. You love her but you’ve been hurt by a lot of people in this life and you don’t want to give yourself to her fully because you’ve got trust issues.”
He shook his head irritably before I had even finished what I was saying.
 “It’s not like that. Things aren’t right between us – her I mean – not me and you. If I just wanted to have sex, I wouldn’t need to come to you would I? I want you to be happy; I want to show you that there are better things in life. Things you can work towards. A dream.”
“I won’t ever be happy. Dreams are called dreams for a reason,” I looked at him with disbelief.
“Some people live the dream.” He smiled at me but I couldn’t help feeling like this was all a game to him. “How did you feel that night we went to the out? How did you feel when we got back and watched films and snuggled up together? How did you feel waking up in the morning in my arms?”
I didn’t know what to say… Obviously I liked it but that was a one off, not something that would ever be permanent. I knew that all too well.
“Well obviously I was happy then but that’s a night and a morning. It doesn’t last does it?”
“If I had enough money, I would buy my own house and I would let you come and stay with me. I would take care of you, away from the rest of the world.”
What?! I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. This was the 27 year old man that I had adored for the past 2 years telling me that he wanted to take me away from the rest of the world. He smiled at me again, his eyes glinting.
“You would make a great wife, looking gorgeous with a warm heart.”
I cut him off there by saying “**** getting married.” Blunt, I know. But this is the man I’ve been in love with since December 2010 and now he decides to show an interest.
“Well, it wouldn’t have to be a legal document,” He doesn’t really agree with marriage because of all the trouble it can cause and because of how it is so publicised all the time. I just looked at him. Why? Why was he saying all of this to me now? Why was he making this so hard?
He pulled me towards him and kissed me passionately.
“How does that make you feel?”
I didn’t want to have to answer him. I just wanted him to do it again. I looked at him, cupped his face in my hands and kissed him more. He asked me again. I whispered so quietly “good.”
He was so gentle with me. He kissed me softly, he stroked my body slowly and delicately, he breathed warmly on my neck. It had never just been sex; it was so much more than that with him. Emotional and loving, passionate and caring, loyal and real and true. I hoped to God that he felt like that too and that it wasn’t just naïve, insecure little me embracing the love I craved so badly, falling for a man who had no empathy. He must feel it too. How could he not?
I couldn’t believe this was happening.
We’d had sex on numerous occasions but he only ever came to me in between girlfriends or when his relationships didn’t seem to be working out. Being the fool that I am, I would always surrender to him. I would always let it happen. But then I would always go home and know that he didn’t want anything more from me; he was quite happy to make me feel loved and then take the love away, as long as he’d fulfilled his own needs, he didn’t care… or did he?
 He always seemed to come back to me, whatever happened.
Sometimes, I felt like our feelings were mutual. We would stay up all night sharing our secrets and he would tell me how he felt as a child and I would feel like he was describing my feelings, I would feel like he was describing me. He would always commented on his stories and say, ‘People like you me’ or ‘we’ or ‘everyone else’ as if me and him were the same. He told me his big dreams and I longed to be a part of them. It killed me knowing that it would never happen but I felt like he wanted it too sometimes. He would always tell me how things were going to be in our big dream... Fantasy, more like.  
This night was so different though. He made me feel like the dream was becoming reality. When he told me he never stopped thinking about me, I guess I broke down because that’s all I’d wanted to hear for so long and I’d suffered so much heartache when I was missing him, thinking that I probably hadn’t crossed his mind at all. He carried on caressing my body and making me feel special. I hoped that this time, he wouldn’t take the love away from me again. I wanted to get lost with him, he knew me better than anyone else. I thought he was my soul mate.
He dropped me home a couple of hours later and as ungrateful as it may seem, I don’t think I was completely happy. I was a confused, mixed up mess. I waited for him to text me to make sure I got in okay; it was 2.30am after all… No text came. I text him to make sure he got home okay… No text came back. I lay in bed and wanted to cut so badly but the night had been amazing in so many different ways- I didn’t want to ruin it by being paranoid and depressed. So, I waited all day and all night of the following day and finally a text came.
‘Hope you’re ok. Can’t talk for a couple of weeks, going to Cornwall with my girlfriend. Chat to u when I get back.’
Was last night real? Have I gone mad? I was so hurt by him. My jaw tightened, my eyes stung. I know he’ll be back for me and I know I’ll get hurt again. Naïve, insecure little me. I thrive off his attention and his love but both of these things are fake. The only truth about the whole situation is my pain. 
mixedupmess mixedupmess
18-21, F
May 7, 2012