After being single for years, I joined a dating app with the hope of finally finding someone who’d love me for who I am. That’s when I met him. He was charming, attentive, and emotionally available or so I thought. The moment we started talking, it felt like destiny. We laughed at the same jokes, had similar values, and unbelievably, even worked in the same IT park.
We would meet during lunch in our shared cafeteria and go on small dates around the office. It felt magical. Soon we got physically close. For me, every “first” from holding hands to sleeping with someone happened with him. He made me feel safe, and I thought this was it. We’d book a hotel once every two weeks, and those moments felt like we were building something real something lasting.
He spoke about our future together, about marrying me, about how lucky he was to find me. I believed him. I trusted every word. I never imagined that I was just a temporary phase for him. Then December came. His sister flew in from the US, and he suddenly started going distant. He said he was busy with her wedding preparations and family responsibilities. I respected that.
I thought, “He’s a good brother, I’ll support him.” He promised we’d stay connected, at least on calls. But that didn’t happen. Days turned to weeks, and I was the only one reaching out. He’d give vague replies, say things at home were strict, that he wasn’t allowed to go out or even talk freely. I kept understanding. I kept waiting.
I kept justifying everything for him, because I loved him. Then came the bomb. Out of nowhere, at the end of the month, he called and said his family had decided to send him abroad for higher studies, like his sister. I was happy for him, but also scared. And then, in the same breath, he told me it was over that long distance would never work, and it was better we ended it now.
Just like that. No discussion, no empathy. I was just discarded. I cried. I begged him to reconsider. I tried reasoning. I gave ideas to make long distance work but he had already decided. He never agreed to meet me even once after that call. And I was left shattered, confused, and alone.
But the final betrayal? A few weeks later in January, he messaged me. Said he missed the “physical intimacy.” He wanted to “do it one last time.” And the saddest part? I agreed. I met him, thinking maybe once he sees me, once he hugs me again, he’d change his mind. We spent a few hours together. He held me. He looked into my eyes. And then he left. Again. Forever.
Now he’s in the USA, probably living his dream, while I’m here still collecting the broken pieces of my soul. Some days I cry non-stop. Some days I scream into my pillow. Some nights I wonder if he ever thinks of me, even for a second, the way I still think of him. But the truth is he used me. He lied to me. He made promises he never intended to keep.
And I was just convenient for him until something “better” came along. This pain? It doesn’t go away easily. I’m trying to bring my spark back, piece by piece, while he just moved on without a scratch. But one thing I’ve promised myself: I will never let a man reduce me to a temporary option again.
And I pray no woman ever gets emotionally manipulated, physically used, and mentally drained like I did. He didn’t just break my heart he broke my trust in love itself.