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The Meaning Of Love
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The Meaning Of Love
Essay on the realization of a cheating lover
The Meaning Of Love
It all began down the dark long stairway that lead to his dimly lit bedroom. His name was Jonathan and I loved him, but there were dark secrets that I knew and hid from the outside world. Knowing what I knew destroyed my own being; it tore me down and brought tears to my eyes until my vision was so blurred I no longer knew what I was looking at. The person that stared back in my reflection was unaware of what a good loving relationship consisted of, that is until I made my escape.
The relationship started so beautiful, new and fresh, just what I was looking for. His looks drew me into him, I could not resist his baby blue eyes and perfect lips. He was all I could see and I believed I was happy just seeing his being.
I believed all the words he told me. Everything about love and happiness and a future together. I was so blinded by his sweet words that the truth was held away from me. I saw the illusion of our relationship and none of the painful reality. Until my eyes saw a small glimmer of the truth. There were framed pictures of the beautiful girls that were just his “friends” hidden sporadically throughout his room. The pictures seemed to tell me stories of being more than friends. Friends do not leave inscriptions of “I love you” on the back of their pictures. But, just as quick as the glimmer of truth was shown to me, I turned my eyes away.
After turning away and denying what my eyes showed to me, I ran back to the arms of Jonathan that always comforted me. I never spoke of what I found for fearing I would be ridiculed and judged by the one I loved. I yearned to be happy with him and believed it to be the best to hide the secrets I knew of, but part of me wanted to know more, wanted to see more than just that glimmer of truth I tried so hard to hide.
I ventured to the other places of his room to where his friends hung out. There I spoke to them about what I saw and what I believed to be happening, but they assured me that the pictures and words were just illusions that were running away with me. They promised me that Jonathan did in fact love me and no one else ever occupied his heart. I believed them as I did Jonathan, they had no reason to betray me.
That satisfied my yearning for just awhile, until I could no longer escape the desire to know more about his hidden secrets. I returned to the place of framed photographs and searched deeper. I went through desk drawers and in between couch cushions, something told me more truth would shed its light. Unfortunately, I was right. In the drawers I found telephone numbers with girls’ names written above them and a box of love letters from a girl named Molly, the same girl in one of the framed photographs. My heart was thumping and beating so fast I could feel it ready to jump out of my chest. All of this information was too much to take in and I threw it all away except for the phone number that belonged to this Molly character.
I ran back to my retreat, to the safety of what I believed in. I ignored all the evidence of truth that was put before me once again. I listened to his words that spoke of love and wanting to be with only me, and I believed it because it was better than feeling my heart ready to jump out of my chest. I went about my every day routine, pretending nothing was wrong. I went to school and dance practices till late in the night and returned home to find him waiting for me. It felt like I spent every possible moment with him, there was no way I saw those haunting images of other girls.
Then nighttime would come, the dark nights when I would be alone in my room, thinking and wondering. Times when I would Constantly dial his phone number and receive no answer. It was those times I would catch myself believing what I saw. I had the Molly’s number crumpled up in my drawer, and temptation would make me dial the number, but the courage I lacked would never allow me to hit the send button. I liked feeling safe and loved, and I did not want to risk losing that feeling. I would close my eyes, re-crumple the number and place it back into my drawer, hiding all evidence of what I knew deep down inside.
The days would pass on, and with them my yearning to know what was happening to my “perfect” relationship grew. When I was in his bedroom and he would leave for a few moments, I would be drawn back to photographs, box of love letters, and the phone numbers. My temptations grew when he was not around until I could no longer bear them. I gained the courage to dial the number, I held my breath as I listened to the ringing on the other end. The ringing suddenly stopped and there was a voice on the other end, one that belonged to a girl. My body froze and I sat there for a moment debating on whether or not to reply to the voice. Images of the photographs, box of love letters, and phone numbers ran through my mind, and without a second thought I spoke. We spoke for only a few minutes until the truth came falling down onto me like a rushing waterfall, sweeping me into a place unknown. We both hung up, dumbfounded by our shared situation, unknown to all of Jonathan’s lies.
All the small glimmers of truth were suddenly put together like pieces of a puzzle and I was brought to the realization that this loving relationship I believed I was in, was all an illusion. I knew what needed to be done. I hung up the telephone with Molly and drove to his house. I ran down the stairs and into his bedroom. I tore through all of his belongings and laid out before him what I had found on previous occasions. He denied the existence of Molly and tried to prove everything that I was saying was all lies. I almost retreated back into the arms that were once my comfort zone, but when I looked at him that very last time, I saw him for what he was and what he stood for and knew I needed to turn away.
I turned my back on him and through all of his pleadings, I continued to walk away. All the “I love yous” he was yelling at me with my back turned towards him burned my ears. I did not want this anymore, I was free. Free from all the sleepless nights and all the hidden secrets. I had made my escape and I was surviving, my comfort had extended beyond his arms, and I was now okay to leave him. My heart did not jump out of my chest, I survived the walk away from him and proceeded to make it to my car. I turned on the ignition and drove away. I was free, and I was okay with that and what I now knew of love and what it is not supposed to be.
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