It Happened for a Reason

[ BECCA ]

The moonlight outside came straight into my room as I skirted my curtains from here, at the second floor of my house. I looked at the neighborhood and it's peaceful. Quiet. It's 7:30pm and my mind is still in a total ravage. A lot of things happened last week that I cannot focus.

Despite these things that're ebbing towards me, I made myself easy. I'm all dressed up, slightly weighing my shoulders down as I sit back in front of my makeup stall. In any minute, Bryan would be here.

It's one of those days where Bryan finds it nice to have a talk. Another day, another fancy date. This relationship is getting boring.

Here I am, in front of a mirror, redoing my make up for the nth time now. I can see my reflection almost every day and it's the same face that I see: my pale lips, my blue eyes, my red cheeks and long blonde hair. I'm tired of seeing this very same detail. Every single day.

Sitting here in front of the mirror became a routine to me, and the reason is always the same -- a "romantic" date. You know the imagery of it: chandeliers hanging up on a fancy restaurant ceiling, with candle lights and roses on your tables, Jazz music playing on the background with matching red carpet on the floor. These things are the same set up I see almost every day.

At first, it was fun. But doing it often makes it less exciting - almost like a lame peacock spreading its wings to impress me.

I am wearing the same red dress that I always have on my dates with Bryan -- a red cocktail dress with flits and ruffles from the waist down. Seeing this exact same image of myself in the mirror almost every day, it's tiring. Like a mask I wear for pretension.

Everything seems working out fine between the two of us, until one day, it hit me a realization.

Eight months ago, I was just as happy, as chipper, as genuine as him. But now, everything changed. It took me those months to know what I really want; and in those eight months of self-evaluation and overthinking, I knew an absurd truth. The truth that he's not one of what I really wanted.

I realized, I never loved this man. I never loved my boyfriend. On the other hand, he loves me, deeply; but I cannot keep myself being with him if my heart keeps telling me otherwise.

The room became a sudden guilt fence where I am in the middle of it. Tall grasses surrounding me, and all I can do is mourn until the sun comes. I am almost a wild mouse trapped in a field.

Doubts coming along. There were lots of issues that I encountered knowing him and some of them threw me off. It's clear as day that I don't love him but I do care about him. I have empathy and sympathy for Bryan. I know this sounds like a cheaters note, but this is not. I never cheated on him.

Bryan is special to me, in a sense I can hang out with him and laugh to his jokes, eat with him at our favorite restaurant and have a glass of wine together. I would love to do those. But there's something I cannot tell him -- an explanation of why did I fell out of love.

He never knew I'm feeling this way in the first place. Two forked roads stuck in a yellow wood, and literally I cannot travel both. I'm torn. My existence was never as crucial as this. Now that I made horrible stuff that my boyfriend never knew about, I feel like a douche.

This is annoying, somehow. We spent too much time, effort, and money on fancy dates and trips together. It sucks how Bryan got to waste everything he had and that's why I'm ending it right here -- I'm breaking things off with him not to cause any more waste. He needs to find someone who is more worthy of his time.

I kept on thinking about the memories we had together. But at the back of my mind, I have an idea that thinking about what we had won't make any difference. I already had my choice and I will not change my mind. I'm ending things between us tonight.

Although, I'm thinking about his reaction. What will he do when I dump him?

I was a bit cautious. Bryan has anger issues and some insecurities about himself. As a man, I find it contrary to the prototype. The way it waves him a red flag every time it triggers. I saw how it drove him agitated, almost cray. It's like an episodic melt down.

At first, his anxieties were okay to handle. But as months passed by, it threw me off. I hated everything about it, and I cannot deal with those issues every time I'm with him. He's fragile and I can't handle him for too long anymore. Eight months is far more than enough.

So, I'm breaking things off.

Tonight.

That's one of the reasons why I thought of breaking things between us. His mental and emotional issues. The distress and anxiousness. My mistakes just added some damage and now I completely had to dwell with this break up I'm thinking.

I never loved this man, indeed. People say if you love someone, you will accept every flaw and scar of him. You will stay by him no matter what and they were right. But with Bryan -- I cannot stay any longer by his side. His issues are just too much for me. I never loved this man, indeed. I never did.

Staring at my reflection, I sighed heavily.

I feel like I am too young for all of this; the things that are happening. I have my own issues that I cannot tell Bryan. Things that I had to deal by my own. Having these will just make things more complicated for us.

I am dumb, I am a piece of crap.

Welcome to the zone, this is the adult life. But I guess what we had were just all peer pressure. When you're with friends, it will make you do impulsive decisions not to embarrass, or ruin the moment. It's just for show.

Eight months ago, we were forced to be boyfriends and girlfriends. I was dumb to say yes. We were drunk and too pressured to satiate our friends' silly mocking. A precis of a context of where it all started.

But how about ending us? How am I going to do it?

This is weird. The thought keeps echoing in my head. I was a total jerk, I know, but we're already here. I guess this is what forced relationships have to deal with.

I was always thinking; we should end this as soon as possible. I don't know. I messed up. I don't want to hurt him and I don't want to trigger his anxiety but I cannot lie to myself. I cannot continue faking my feelings just to make him feel okay.

Right. Tonight, I'm ending things.

I took my red lipstick on my makeup kit set and started dabbing it on my lips; both upper and lower, trying to make it appear more glamorous. No matter how much I try to make myself beautiful, I cannot hide this feeling of unhappiness in me. I can't help the tiny flashes and fragments of memories crawling in my sight. It's taking me to that bar, where I was thinking about dilemmas and decisions: my self-made scars.

The thoughts kept rowing and I feel sorry about Bryan.

He's the type of guy that will get you with his jokes. I love his humor outside of his own home. He can make me laugh in seconds and he's a sweet guy. He's taller than me, with all his broad shoulders carved from hitting the gym often. He used to collect swords from Chinese dynasties, but stopped when we went to college. He has a car his dad bought him on his 18th birthday, too. and if there is one thing he could do for a day, that's wine drinking. I have known so much but understand a little of him -- I mean, I have known so much about him but I understood only a little of my feelings for him.

But now it's all clear. I never loved him.

Eight months. Such a long time it took me. We did crazy stuff together: we traveled places, we made promises. But I'm sorry, I just did not love him or so. I never loved him back like he does with me.

After that conversation with my inner self, I stood up as I heard Bryan's car honking outside. I could almost memorize how many times he'd do it. Four, to be exact.

I'm stuck in a routine that I never wanted to be in. Like a prisoner in a cell, rolling in and out of his bed, waiting to be bailed out.

But in this case, I have to get my own way out.