First Heartache

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a story about the first time my heart was broken.

Submitted: August 13, 2010

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Submitted: August 13, 2010

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It was another long, sinfully boring night at work spent answering calls and putting up with people’s small talk. I was particularly displeased since lately my nights spent at the office had been an emotional rollercoaster.  I had recently shared an intimate night with a fellow co-worker. He had wanted more from me than I was ready to give him, so the following day his desires for me shifted. He no longer wanted what I had to offer. I tried to not let it get to me. I was determined to convince myself that I was over it.  I willed myself to think the whole situation had no effect on me whatsoever.  I tried to remember that I was beautiful and amazing, and that if he didn’t see it, it was his loss.

Then I saw him. My breath caught when I saw his devious smile and sensual eyes. All my positive thinking about getting over him vanished into thin air. I instantly became his fool again.  He approached my desk and we just stared at each other for a moment.  I looked up at him expectantly with wide eyes and an open heart, pleading silently within for him to tell me he was wrong. That what he had done was positively cruel and he’d been an idiot to have treated me that way. I wanted him to tell me he needed me and would do whatever it took to make me his own.  But my hopes were quickly destroyed when I read his eyes:  they were icy and without emotion.  He wasn’t looking at me the way he did the other night.  He finally broke away eye contact and asked me in a frigid tone, “What have you been telling people?”  Upon hearing the question, my body froze and my stomach dropped to my feet.  My mind was racing and I didn’t know how to respond.  

I’m not going to lie; even though I knew it was wrong to talk when we didn’t have a real relationship, I had spoken to a few co-workers that I felt close to about it.  I believed the people I told wouldn’t divulge my secret and that I should feel safe with them to not spread rumors.  Apparently I had been wrong to trust so much, because here he was staring at me with accusing eyes, waiting for me to explain myself.  So, I tried to do the only thing I could think of:  I played innocent, pretending I didn’t have any idea as to how anybody would have figured it out.  It was to no avail. He started shaking his head and muttering how stupid I was. He then went off on a banter, telling me how people were coming up asking him questions about that night.  I felt horrified as to what they could be thinking and desperately wanted to know what they had been saying to him.  Apparently rumors had circulated that made it seem we did much more than we actually did. His anger was boiling up within him; you could see him seething with it.  If we had not been at work, I swear the boy would have been yelling and slapping me.  I tried to remain calm, and not let my emotions seep through me.  After all, it was my fault, I was obviously to blame since I had been the one talking.  I felt ridiculous for having been so immature with the situation.  I would take it all back in a heartbeat, if it would make him want me again.  

He declared, “It definitely wasn’t me who told, because I sure as fuck would never tell anybody that I was with you.”  After he uttered those words, there was a magnified silence and all that could be heard was our heavy breathing.  It was as though time ceased to move.  We gazed into each other’s eyes one more time and then he walked away faster than he had ever come.  My eyes instantly burst into tears the second the door slammed shut behind him.  I couldn’t control anything anymore; my feelings had been taken and smashed right in front of me.  His words stung; even though I had never loved him, never met his family. Honestly, we were nothing to one another.  The fact was it was all supposed to be a fling.  That didn’t change how I felt though.  The notion that he was ashamed to have been with me burned painfully.  

For quite some time after that, I found myself just going through the motions of life hating myself. He, however, seemed to be doing just dandy, flirting with every other girl and acting as if he’d never met me.  As the days progressed, the issue only became more out of hand.  The horribly disgusting rumors were revealed to me; I was known as a slut to my co-workers. In their eyes, I had committed nearly every sexual act one can think of. It caused quite a bit of drama with some of them, and what was even worse was that the rumors were false.  

Though my faith had always been strong with God, I started doubting his love for me.  Sure, I had brought this all upon myself. I had been a fool to rush into the relationship so quickly and let him in so close.  I knew I had let down my moral guard and let some guy I’d just met share a private moment with me.  But how could my loving God let this happen to me? What did I do so wrong to garner this sort of punishment?  

Then one day in church I decided I needed to let it all out and confide in somebody.  There was a woman standing up at the front with sandy blonde hair and a friendly smile.  So I decided I’d divulge my story to her.  Afterwards, she took a breath and calmly explained to me, “It doesn’t matter what this guy has done or said to you, because how you are perceived in God’s eyes is all that you need to focus on.”  She also reiterated to me that I deserved more.  Her words hit me like a brick.  I did deserve more, I knew I did.  I didn’t deserve to be talked down to and treated like dirt.  I didn’t deserve someone who would play games with me.  It is his loss that we would never be, not mine.  

Through this knowledge, I have gained confidence in knowing what I am worth and how I ought to be treated.  I have forgiven myself for being young and naive enough to have allowed him to play with my heart, understanding now that there is still a lot for me to learn.  But most of all, I have learned I am nothing to be ashamed of.


© Copyright 2018 Andrea Renee. All rights reserved.

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