I didn’t expect to fall in love with him. It happened so fast, and it felt like I was drowning.
We met at a work event. The connection was immediate, electric, but I brushed it off.
He had a girlfriend, and I thought that would be the end of it. But we kept running into each other, sharing smiles and quick conversations.
One night, we ended up talking for hours. It felt like we were the only two people in the room.
I knew I was crossing a line, but I couldn’t help myself. Something in his eyes pulled me in deeper.
I learned about his life, his dreams, his struggles. He felt so real, and it was refreshing to connect with someone like that.
The guilt would creep in at odd moments. Just when I thought we were just friends, he would touch my arm or lean in too close.
Those seemingly innocent moments sent shivers down my spine. I was falling fast, and I couldn’t seem to stop it.
We started texting. Each message felt like a little secret we shared, an invitation to something more.
I even caught myself imagining a future with him, despite the reality of his relationship. Part of me hoped he’d end things with her.
But now, there were late-night phone calls. Conversations that went deeper than I ever intended, filled with laughter and also tears.
We talked about his struggles with his girlfriend. I listened intently, trying to be the supportive friend while my heart shattered a little more.
It felt wrong, but it also felt necessary. The line kept blurring.
Then he kissed me one night. A soft, tentative kiss that startled me, yet ignited something that I thought had been buried.
I pulled away instantly, my heart racing. My mind screamed that this couldn’t happen, but my body felt alive.
He looked at me, uncertainty flashing in his eyes. I saw his pain reflected back, and I wanted to scream, “This isn’t fair!”
From that moment on, things shifted. We couldn’t ignore the tension, the chemistry that burned between us.
It became a cycle of longing and regret. Each day felt heavier than the last.
We shared stolen moments at work, but they were always tinged with anxiety. I was ashamed of what was developing between us.
Eventually, he broke up with her. It was sudden, and I found myself in a whirlwind of emotions.
I wanted to celebrate, but guilt wrapped around me like a fog. I felt like both the villain and the hero.
As we started officially dating, everything changed. The joy was overshadowed by the reality that love built on lies is fragile.
Then I noticed he still carried scars from his previous relationship. It hurt to see him struggle, even after choosing me.
Sometimes, I felt like I was walking on eggshells, afraid to push him. I could tell he was still processing so much.
Every argument brought his past back up, even if it wasn’t directly related to us. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he still loved her in some way.
I often questioned if my love was worth the pain we caused. Was our relationship built on a shaky foundation?
Months passed, but the doubt lingered. Each day became a reminder of our flawed beginning.
I tried to forget the pain and focus on the future. Yet, every time he tried to open up, I hesitated.
I didn’t want to hear about her or what he went through. I wanted to believe our love was enough to heal it all.
Yet the truth was, we kept circling back to the past. It felt like we were running a marathon, but I was always a step behind.
I wondered if we could ever truly heal. Or would we always carry the weight of our choices?
Now, as I look back, I feel torn. Was the love we found worth the heartache we caused?
Is there a way to move forward when the past looms so large?
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