personal essay

they say actions speak louder than words
your words told me you cared, but your actions left me in tears
(alcohol isn't a stable ground for anyone)

I met him and I was attracted to him. Maybe it was because he can sing, or because he lived in LA, or he was in a professional band for three years. Maybe it was because he has a captivating smile and really great eyes. Maybe it's because I'm attracted to all the wrong things.
We met and connected through alcohol. I kept pouring the drinks into my body and pouring my inhibitions out. I still had a boyfriend, but that didn't stop me from waking up next to another guy.
"You passed the test," he smiled. "You still look cute when you wake up in the morning."
My boyfriend and I were over.
I depended on him too much anyway.
I just wanted to have some fun.
We kept partying, kept drinking, kept waking up next to each other, for whatever reason.
Whatever happens will happen, I said. I tried not taking anything too seriously, although we did keep waking up next to each other - even when we weren't partying.
On Valentine's Day he recorded me a cover of a song entitled "I'm Yours." It seemed like he actually did care about me.
Sometimes I would sleep over his plavce, and then not hear from him at all the next day.
That's okay, I thought, we're just having fun, we're not officially together or anything.
Whatever happens will happen.
I tried to play it cool, but when it comes to my emotions, I'm fragile.
I should have known better.
I tried to push aside the fact that I cared, but for some reason I couldn't.
My friend told me to tell him how I felt.
It was easy for me to open myself up to him physically - but emotionally?
I still wanted to deny it.
One night, with my friend's advice in mind, I wrote in my journal all of my thoughts and feelings towards him. I was preparing myself for what I would say to him. I concluded my writing by saying that quite simply, I just liked him. There wasn't anyone else.
A few hours later, he called me and told me he'd been hanging out with another girl.
"Sorry if I ruined your night," he said.
"It's not ruined. I don't want to talk. I'm going to bed."
I walked straight in the bathroom and took out my contacts.
Then I stared at myself for a good, long, time.
I saw the pain in my eyes.
I started to cry, but then I made myself stop.
I took a deep breath in and I stopped.
Whatever happens will happen.
I walked back into my bedroom and crawled into my bed.
Without stopping myself, I broke.
I let the tears flow and in that moment, I didn't deny anything.