Baby, you gotta pick

Me or her.

My words greeted silence. My heart was breaking, I didn’t want to say goodbye. He looked at me. And, in his eyes I saw sadness.

Or so I thought. Players, cheaters- do they feel sadness?

I could barely look at him. My chest was tightening, my heart racing. Tears burned my eyes.

It was the day after the 4th of July. A whole twenty four hours had gone by since I knew without a single doubt he was lying to me. He was seeing her. And they weren’t just “friends.” She considered him her boyfriend, because she didn’t know he was fooling around with me on the side.

He straight up lied to me. That he “was with family” and couldn’t spend the evening watching the fireworks display with me a couple miles from his house.

But really he was with her, on a float trip and making grand ol’ memories. While all I got was fucked and drunk.

He knew something was up when I got to his house the next night. I was too quiet. And when we go to bed, he’s sweet and concerned, asking me what’s wrong.

I knew we weren’t dating, that we were just fuck buddies (didn’t stop me from falling head over feet for him though) so I debated even bringing his girlfriend up. I didn’t want to seem clingy, or over dramatic. I wanted to be perfect for him. He hated over emotional girls; dramatic girls. He always told me he loved how I wasn’t like them. Because I never freaked out on him, I didn’t cry.

He tells me to just say it, that he won’t think I’m being stupid.

In a tentative voice, I finally manage “I know about her. Why do you lie about her?” I wasn’t judging, or crying. Just very obviously bothered by his lies.

He went deathly silent. I don’t know what he was thinking- but I can guess because he did bring up in the conversation that he was very surprised I brought it up.

Finally he says, “I’ve been meaning to…I didn’t know how.”

Omg, I just wanted to cry. Sob my eyes out. But I remained cool.

We talked for awhile. He said he didn’t know what he wants: he really likes her, but he likes me too.

I looked at him. I asked who he wants. He didn’t say. So I told him I’m leaving and giving him space to figure it out.

I then climbed out of bed, at 2-3am, and said I’m going home.

He actually looked quite sad. I gathered my clothes and headed for the door. He followed me out. I went to the front door, hand on the knob when he says right behind me, “Can I get a hug at least?”

He held me tight. The beginning of tears hit. I released him, glanced at him, and said goodbye. I wasn’t even off his porch before the tears streamed down my face.

He texted me on my drive home, and said he guesses I hate him now. I could barely see my phone through my eyes as I texted back and said no, I don’t, I’m just glad he was finally honest with me about her.

And for ten days that was the end of us. I suck at ultimatums. Obviously. If I went back to a cheater.



  1. Pingback: Daily Prompt: With or Without You | The Wandering Poet

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