They say love is supposed to feel warm.
So why did mine feel like a marathon?
Like I was constantly chasing something just out of reach… breaking a little more with every step.
I gave my heart and trust too easily—to people who didn't even try to hold onto them. People who didn't value me enough to make me feel like I mattered.
Maybe the problem wasn't them.
Maybe… it was.. ME.
CHAPTER 1:
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my eyes red and swollen.
"Do you really want to be loved like this?" I whispered.
I held my own gaze, replaying everything that had happened over the past week. Seven days—and somehow, it already felt like I had lost so much of myself.
I told myself this was normal. That relationships were hard. That love came with pain.
But deep inside, something felt wrong.
Not just wrong—heavy.
I wiped my tears and walked back into his room.
Gio—my boyfriend—was lying on the bed, his eyes glued to his phone. Scrolling. Watching other girls.
Like I wasn't even there.
Like I didn't matter.
A tight knot formed in my chest.
"Can we stop this?" I asked softly, my voice trembling.
He flinched and quickly hid his phone under the pillow. He knew we would fight if I caught him.
But instead of explaining, he just smiled.
Like everything was fine.
Like I was overreacting.
"Please… I don't want to do this anymore," I said, my voice shaking.
"Everything hurts… and it doesn't feel right."
I repeated it, hoping—just hoping—that he would understand.
He didn't.
"Stop?" he scoffed. "Are you serious right now?"
He stood up, his eyes cold.
"You want to stop having sex with me? What—suddenly you've changed? You think you're better than this now?"
I froze.
"Don't give me that 'it doesn't feel right' crap," he continued, stepping closer.
"Where was that feeling when you were ditching your friends for me? When you were lying to your parents just to be with me?"
Each word hit harder than the last.
"You didn't care about what was 'right' back then. So why care now?"
Before I could react, he grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me closer.
"You think I don't notice?" he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"You pushed everyone away for me. And now that I want one thing… you're backing out?"
My breath caught.
"You're selfish," he snapped.
"Acting like some innocent girl when you're not."
He shoved me back, and I stumbled, hitting the wall.
"Fine. Refuse," he said coldly.
"But don't act like a victim."
He leaned in again, his voice dropping into a quiet, cutting whisper.
"You gave up everything for me. So now you owe me."
My chest tightened.
"If you walk away now," he added, "don't expect people will love you and accept you, because you are just my left over now, your MINE!."
Then he left.
The door slammed behind him, the sound echoing through the room.
And I was alone.
Crying in a place that never really felt safe.
AT HOME
When I got home, my mom was in the kitchen, preparing the dinner. The warm smell filled the house.
She looked at me—and immediately knew something was wrong.
But she didn't ask.
Instead, she smiled gently.
"Faith, you know it's just you and me. You can talk to me—whether you're happy or hurting. Mama's here."
I forced a small smile.
"I'm fine, Mom. Just a bad day at school."
I didn't want her to worry.
And more than that… I didn't want her to know about Gio.
She would never allow it.
After dinner, I went to my room and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
His words replayed in my head.
Over and over.
My hands shook as I grabbed my phone and called him.
No answer.
I tried again.
Still nothing.
Panic slowly crept in.
I knew him. Whenever we fought, he drank.
I called his friends. No one answered—until finally, one of them picked up.
"Is Gio with you?" I asked, my voice unsteady.
"No, not right now," he replied. "He left earlier."
I hung up, my heart racing.
Ten minutes later, I tried again.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Someone finally answered.
Relief rushed through me.
"Hello?" I said quickly.
But it wasn't him.
Loud music blasted in the background. Laughter. Voices.
A party? my heart skipped a bit like it's about to burst because I know this. This happened before and it didn't turn out very good.
"Gio, Faith's calling," his friend shouted.
I held my breath.
Then I heard Gio's voice.
"Don't answer that. It's a waste of time. We came here to have fun."
My chest tightened.
"I don't want to talk to useless people."
A girl laughed.
Then the call ended.
I stared at my phone as the screen went dark.
Then I broke.
I cried the whole night, my thoughts spinning out of control.
Was I really useless?
Was I not enough?
Had I given everything… to someone who never cared?
THE NEXT MORNING
I woke up with swollen eyes and a heavy chest.
The first thing I did was check my phone.
Nothing.
No message. No apology.
I tried calling him again, but his phone was unreachable.
Maybe it died, I told myself.
Maybe.
I called his best friend instead.
"Is Gio with you?" I asked quietly.
"Yeah," he said. "He's here. He got really drunk, so I brought him home."
Relief washed over me.
"Can I come over?" I asked.
"Sure. I have to go to work—I can't take care of him."
I quickly got dressed, holding onto a small, fragile hope.
Maybe today would be different.
Maybe he'd apologize.
Maybe he'd finally understand.
I didn't know yet…
that things were about to get worse.