Allergic to love

Cry about it

I slowly pushed myself out of my car, shutting the door quietly so he wouldn't hear me outside. His lights were on in the living room.

I am not a stalker, but the window in the front of his house was much too tempting. I peered into it and hoped he would not glance towards me. There was little chance of that happening since he was sucking the face of another girl right there on his couch.

Why am I even surprised at this point?

I tiptoed to his front door and placed the sweatshirt down. The courage to press the doorbell and see him face to face vanished.

I didn't want to have a conversation with him. I didn't want to hear him lie about the reason he broke up with me. I didn't want to stare into the eyes of someone who meant so much to me a day ago.

As I walked back to my car, I took a last glance at the couch. They were still going at it, seemingly unfazed by my presence. I knew I could stop it with one single ring of the doorbell, but I didn't want to push it.

I slumped into the driver's seat, feeling absolutely defeated. Before I was able to collect my thoughts, tears started flowing. Great. Now I am the girl who gets dumped over text AND cried in front of her ex's house, while he makes out with another girl nonetheless.

The sobs starting to fade as I wiped my eyes, pulling myself together.
You deserve better than this. You can put yourself back out there. You will find a good person. You will find love.
The reassurances did not help my heart, but the tears did dry out. I shifted the car into gear and drove back home, knowing damn well this was not the end of the crying.