Although it has been a while, I still feel the same when I hear his name. It’s been more than a year, but his name still makes me feel the same way it did when I first heard it. He’s the only guy I know who has touched my heart. First one to make me feel different. Who made me do something?
My number was changed after I got a better job. I tried to keep myself occupied so that I wouldn’t think about him. Just to calm my mind down, I’d wander aimlessly. I was so lost, I would often sit alone in a park at night. I would sob loudly, hoping that someone would hear me. I would hide the tears under my blanket or pillow.
I would hammer on myself at night to make sure no one saw me. It was like my body and heart were torn apart when I cried.
I remembered our quality time spent in the parks. It was now just a blank space. We used to fight each other with a pillow. I now fight with myself. The days were gone when we would sleep on our laps or rest our head on the shoulders. The room was now a single pair of shoulders. We went to restaurants. He would smile and take selfies. I felt so good that I made him happy. It was now lonely in restaurants. My life was not happy. We dated for nearly 4 years.
The tears ran out. The pillow had become too wet for the sun to dry it. I lost track of how many sleepless nights I’d had. I took control of my own life after overcoming all the obstacles and fighting depression.
I signed up for a foreign-language course. I studied French. I spent my time productively and kept busy. The best way to heal any type of pain is with time.
I always try to spot him when I meet guys. I know that he’s unique and one-of-a-kind. I have never felt that same love for him.
Love is the only thing that can make us feel worth while money and time are not enough.
I still own all the photos we took together. I still have everything we did together. I can still recall the good times we had. All of his smiles, both innocent and not so innocent, are in my file. I always opened it when I was by myself or if I missed his company. I laughed when he did something funny. I still love my ex-boyfriend.
I’m fine. I’ll be fine. You are the one who has to deal with guilt. You are the one who has to live with the guilt.
Now, I am a girl that doesn’t give a damn about anyone. Today, heartbreaks and maturity have wiped away the unreal glimmer of these feelings. True love is a mere illusion. True love never existed. You taught me this lesson well, even though I was a late learner.
Sad Love Story Essay No. 2I met my love in Paris. Francine shook her heels and scanned the crowd. The brunette hair that was flowing across her face was frozen cold. Her smile was bright and her eyes were chocolate brown. They made me feel butterflies. She wore the casual look worn by all French girls: tight denim, a woolly jumper, and heeled shoes. Yet, there was something that made me want to be closer. Despite our first dating experience, we immediately felt a connection. It was like nothing else in the world. After meeting Francine, I no longer needed to look for my parents. She was my friend, my family and my support. She was never far from my thoughts; she always stayed with me, emotionally and physically. I felt like I was in a dream every time I woke up and saw her face. And when she cooked a delicious dinner, it made me feel even better. She was the only thing that remained constant in an otherwise chaotic world. She was special to me.
Francine always stood out as the most intelligent person. She was the person everyone looked up too and she was always the life of the party. After her mother’s death, everything changed. Her personality changed and she became more withdrawn. Soon, we began to lose money and household items. Her plump cheeks began to thin out, and it looked as though her eyes were being sucked up by the bony skull. Her hour-glass shape becoming more stick like, showing her frail and fragile skeleton. Her once glamorous and fashionable clothes now looked like thrift store cast-offs. Francine’s life had changed, despite my efforts to pull her out of the never-ending dark hole. Her entire life was stolen and she was confined to the prison of fear. She quit her job and the need for money grew, causing me to be financially burdened. The drugs slowly took her from me. They took over and crumbled the woman into a walking dead corpse.
When I got home from work one day, I discovered her on the carpet surrounded with syringes. Her eyes were closed, and she had a blue face. Vomit was all over her mouth. She did not move. I tried to shake her, but it was no use. I could feel myself about to pass out. I felt my heart pounding inside of my ribcage. My brain and body did not cooperate as the room spun. My hand was shaking as I grabbed my phone to dial emergency. My face went numb. I cried in streams. I felt my brain being shredded inside. My screams and hysterical crying were interrupted only by my inhalation.
My life was ruined. My only love in life was gone. I would have died without her.
My friends saved me from the worst mistake I could have made.
I still think about her every day. The thought of her still consumes me every day.
I was extremely grateful to be able to meet Francine. We shared a lot of wonderful memories, even though they were bittersweet.