Shattered Illusions

I've always wanted to find myself. My likes, my dislikes, the dreams I've kept buried. What I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to get drunk once without guilt, to have friends who cared about me, to laugh until my stomach hurt. I wanted the things I saw people my age doing, things that always seemed so far away. But wanting and having are two very different things, and in my world, wanting didn't mean much.

I sat on the couch, staring at the faded patterns on the curtains, my thoughts spiraling into daydreams of freedom, when the banging began.

Bang! Bang!

"Open the fucking door, Aris!"

The sound jolted me back to reality, my stomach twisting into knots as Daren's voice cut through the silence. I stood up, hands trembling as I made my way to the door. The moment I unlocked it, the smell of alcohol hit me, mingled with a sweet, cloying perfume—nothing I had ever worn.

He stumbled in, his shirt half-untucked, and my eyes landed on the hickeys scattered across his neck like a grotesque pattern. My chest tightened, the walls around me closing in. There was no hiding it. No lie he could tell to make this something else.

"What's the issue, Aris?" His words slurred slightly, but his tone was sharp, laced with irritation.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My voice failed me as I whispered, "Nothing."

"What was that?" he snapped, stepping closer.

"Nothing," I said again, louder this time, but my throat burned as I tried to swallow the tears threatening to spill over.

He rolled his eyes, letting out a sharp laugh. "It's always nothing with you, huh? Never anything to say. Never any fight. God, it's pathetic."

My hands clenched into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. I wanted to scream at him, to demand answers, but the words were stuck somewhere deep inside me, tangled with every ounce of self-doubt he'd fed me over the years.

"Look," he said, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "I can't do this anymore."

"What?" The word came out barely above a whisper, but it felt like a scream inside my head.

"I said I can't do this anymore," he repeated, his voice cold and detached. "I'm tired, Aris. Tired of all of this. You. Us. It's over."

My knees wobbled as the weight of his words hit me. My chest felt like it was being crushed, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

"You're joking," I said, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

He shrugged, brushing past me and grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen counter. "Nope. I'm serious. This isn't working for me anymore. Hasn't been for a while, honestly."

I stood frozen, the ground beneath me crumbling as my mind raced. How could he say that so casually? After everything? After I gave up everything for him?

"But you said—" My voice cracked, tears spilling over now. "You said you loved me."

"Yeah, well," he said, leaning against the counter, looking bored. "Things change."

The room spun. I reached out to steady myself, gripping the edge of the doorframe as my vision blurred. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving me drowning in his indifference.

"Is this because of someone else?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer. The perfume, the hickeys—they weren't coincidences.

He didn't even flinch. "Does it matter?"

The finality in his tone was a punch to the gut. He didn't care. He hadn't cared in a long time, and I had been too blind to see it.

He walked toward the door, grabbing his jacket. "I'll come by later to grab my stuff. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

And just like that, he was gone.

I sank to the floor, the silence of the empty room deafening. My chest heaved as sobs wracked my body. Every insult, every fight, every moment of doubt I had pushed aside came flooding back in vivid detail. I had convinced myself that I needed him, that without him, I was nothing. But now, I felt like less than nothing.

It wasn't just heartbreak—it was devastation. It was the slow, suffocating realization that the life I had built around him was gone, and I didn't know who I was without it.

The walls of the room felt closer, the shadows darker. For hours, I sat there, tears staining my cheeks, thoughts swirling like a storm.

Was he right? Am I really nothing? Maybe he's better off without me. Maybe everyone is.