“So this is it?”

I stood there starring at him, pleading with the universe to let him stay. He was the closest to love that I have ever been.

“I am so sorry. I fell in love. This has to be it.”

I refused to cry, so I stood there in silence knowing if I uttered a single sound, I wouldn’t be able to stop the tears.

He let out a sigh and turned to leave. I leaned against the front door of my apartment and gazed ahead of me as the world became a blur. The sounds of his footsteps disappeared down the stairs and through the parking lot until all I could hear was him driving away.

The birds chirped and cars hummed by, but I sat there thinking of our conversation. He had no idea how I felt. I let out a laugh.

“Had I truly never told him how I felt?” I thought to myself as I finally allowed myself to cry. Two years, and I hadn’t noticed that his feelings were no where near being as strong as mine.

I sat on the cool ground as I thought of our last trip. We went hiking at one of my favorite trails. I was excited to share this experience with him as I had never done this before.

We hiked up over 1,000 foot elevation to a canyon. We found a secluded area where no one was. The only sounds that could be heard were small chirping birds and the rustle of tree branches. We laid on the smooth ground, heads on my daypack, and were just in the moment. His breathing had become a soothing lullaby. It put me at ease, and I felt safe. In that serene canyon, I knew I could fall in love no matter the pain from my past. We didn’t need words or touch. We could just be, and that’s all I needed.

I turned to him to tell him something. I wasn’t sure yet, but I stopped when I saw he was looking at me. I became anxious as I thought of telling him all that I was thinking, so I kissed him instead. I have never been good at sharing my feelings or allowing myself to be vulnerable.

I cried not because I was upset he left me. I cried because I had messed up. I was the one who let him leave. I couldn’t tell him how I felt, so he found someone else.

I was falling for him, and he had already fallen for someone else before I came to this realization.

He made me feel like we could have been something real. He wanted something real. I wanted something real, but I was afraid.

Every touch. Every kiss. Every word. Every promise. It all felt so real, yet so magical. I was finally getting my happily ever after, but magic isn’t real and not every story has a happy ending. Sometimes the hero is their own villain.

I picked my self up off the ground, wiped my tears, and went inside.

“So this is it?” I said to my now empty apartment.