Chapter 1 #2
“I’m sorry, Ale, I can’t keep doing this,” Mia had said.
“I don’t think what we have is working. I kept waiting for the sparks I felt at the beginning to return, to grow deeper in love with you.
I thought I’d catch up with your feelings eventually, but I haven’t.
And I don’t think I ever will. You’re incredible, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I think we need to break up. ”
I swear the Earth swallowed me whole the second she’d said it all. I was in this dark, empty space, alone, while my heart shattered beyond repair.
She said so much that night, but I didn’t hear a word.
All that replayed in my mind was the love of my life saying she’d essentially had to force herself to try to love me the way I’d loved her, and I think that’s what hurt the most. How effortless it was for me to love her, and how hard it was for her to love me.
Since then, I’ve thought that maybe I’m hard to love, maybe I’ll never be quite enough for someone to truly fall for.
I’ve had other relationships since Mia, none of which were serious or lasted more than a few months.
I can’t seem to take that step into something real, even though I really want to.
“I want to find my person and start doing all the small, dumb things with them. To wake up next to someone and be completely happy. Who doesn’t want that?” I wrap my arms around my waist, trying to contain the pit in my stomach.
“Me,” Clara interrupts jokingly.
I know she’s trying to lighten the mood, but it just annoys me. I don’t even acknowledge it, because if I could shut off my feelings as easily as Clara always seems to, I would’ve done it a long time ago.
There’s a beat of silence, and then her hands wrap tighter around my waist, pulling me deeper into her arms. I nuzzle into her neck, taking in a breath of her and letting my tears fall.
“Sorry,” she says, softer this time. “I was trying to make it less heavy.”
“I know,” I say weakly, watching my mascara-stained tears bleed into her white shirt.
Clara takes a deep breath. “There’s nothing broken about you, Ale.”
I hear her, but I don’t believe her, because something must be. All I do is cling to her tighter, willing my brain to listen to her.
“You’re perfect. And you will get the fairy-tale ending you want because you deserve it.” Clara says, leaning in to kiss the tip of my nose. A kiss so sweet and so tender, I swear I feel her pour all her love into it. And that sweet flutter of comfort in my stomach blooms.
“You’re just saying that.” I offer a tiny smile. The kind only my best friend could draw out of me in a moment like this.
“I mean it.” Clara pulls me into her chest and wraps her leg around me so tightly there’s not even a tenth of an inch between us.
“I hate seeing you this way, I hate that you feel like this, and more than anything, I hate Mia for leaving the one good thing that’ll ever happen to her.
Not that I thought she deserved you. Mia never deserved you, so it makes me extra hate that she, of all people, still affects you.
Fuck Mia, and everyone else that’s made you feel this way.
You’re not hard to love, Ale. You’re the easiest person to love. ”
I hold her tighter, letting the tears fall from my face. Letting myself break a little, because nothing feels safer than Clara. She’s my home, my person—her arms are a sanctuary where the world can’t reach me. I never want her to let go.
I want a love like this—this big and this pure, and this unwavering. The type of love I only know exists because of Clara. Why can’t everyone love me the way she loves me? Why am I not enough for anyone but her?
The thought gnaws at me all night as Clara holds me, only leaving my side to grab the food she ordered for us. I don’t eat much. I don’t talk much, either. But she doesn’t push. She just exists beside me, and it’s all I need.
At some point, with Clara’s unwavering support and encouragement through the night, I realize I don’t need the constant validation, the swipes, the almosts that never turn into anything real.
Maybe I already have the kind of love that holds me through the darkest of nights and never asks for anything in return.
So I reach for my phone, open the app that’s been feeding my loneliness more than fixing it, and thumb through the settings.
“Delete,” I whisper as I type the word on the deletion page of the dating app I’ve been using for the past few months.
The screen asks me one last time if I’m sure, the bold letters almost taunting me.
I take a deep breath and press the confirmation button, erasing my profile, my matches, and every conversation that once felt full of possibility, gone, along with any hope I had.
The chaotic journey I started a few months ago has finally come to an end, and has only led me to the conclusion that I should stop dating altogether.
Tonight, Clara reminded me that I’m already loved. I’m already enough, and not having a partner doesn’t take away from that.