When I saw him again after weeks, my heart skipped a beat. He was just as handsome as the first time I met him - perhaps even more so. His bronze skin glistened in the sun as we met in the park, and I couldn't help but notice the faint hints of gray in his wavy, dark black hair. His rectangle glasses gave him an intellectual charm, while his strong muscles showed off his athleticism and confidence. As he smiled, his eyes got small and his little fangs showed, making me swoon. His dark brown eyes were magnetic, and it felt like he was talking just to me, despite the fact that we were in a public place. It was clear that he could make anything come to life with the way he talked with his hands and laughed. Even after turning 30, he still seemed youthful and full of wonder, as if he had lived a thousand lives already. My heart melted as I realized that I was still drawn to him just as much as I was the first time we met.

Betrayal and pain replace the love, Leaving behind nothing but hurt and shove, It's hard to trust after being deceived, And the heart feels scared and peeved.

Love is not about forgetting the past, it is about accepting that someone did something wrong but still choosing to love them for who they are.

Hate the harm they caused, but don't forget the love they gave. The person they were before the mistake deserves to be cherished, even if their actions cannot be excused

Sometimes we hate people for the wrong that they've done, yet we can't help but love the person they used to be. It's a dichotomy of emotions that teaches us that forgiveness doesn't always mean forgetting, but that we can separate the actions from the person to find peace in our hearts.

The thought of him choosing her over me is bad enough, but the details make it so much worse. The fact that they were intimate in our bed, with my plushies there, is a level of disrespect that I never thought he was capable of. It's like all the love and memories we shared amounted to nothing to him. The bed we shared, the one we slept in and laughed in, was tarnished by their actions. I feel violated and tainted by what happened in our bed, something that was once a sanctuary for us. The betrayal and hurt I feel is overwhelming and it's like I've been left with nothing but painful memories. I hate that I gave him so much of myself and my love, only to be treated so callously.

After he chose her over me and desecrated our bed, asking me to forgive and forget is like adding insult to injury. As if the betrayal and pain aren't enough, now he expects me to just move on like it's easy. He doesn't understand how much he hurt me, how his actions have shaken my trust in him and in relationships as a whole. How can I forgive him when he's shown such little regard for my feelings? How can I forget what he's done when the reminder is now forever imprinted in his now bed? It's not that simple and it's not something I can just brush off. I wish he would understand that and stop trying to make it seem like it's a small problem that can be solved by a simple apology.

The first time I met him

As I walked into the room, I saw him sitting in the corner, his wavy black hair falling on his forehead, his tan skin glowing and his brown eyes shining like jewels in sunlight. His dimples dug deep into his cheeks while he looked at me and flashed a smile showing his fangs.

I couldn't help but stare. His features were so striking, accentuated by each other, making him look bold and charismatic. His smile was contagious and it was hard not to feel happy when he was happy.

As he moved towards me, his body was surrounded by a mix of the most intoxicating scents of spiced mango and coffee, I could feel myself getting lost in the moment. He was like a god in human form, intoxicatingly beautiful, and I couldn't help but be drawn to him.

I tried to concentrate on what he was saying to me, but it was difficult when his dimples kept making me want to smile with him. His long fingers danced along the edges of the table, tapping in time with the words that flowed so easily from his lips.

As he began to talk about his travels, I noticed how his eyes sparkled with interest and passion. He had seen the world, and his experiences had made him into the person he was.

I continued to get lost in his voice as he spoke, his eyes remaining open as he became more animated with his gestures, his fangs no longer visible. Then, as he laughed at something I said, those fangs appeared once again, and I knew this was the person I had been searching for, my perfect match, the one who would complete me.

I know it's been so long and I've been trying to let go, but even though I shouldn't feel the pain anymore, it still lingers in my heart, haunting me like a ghost of a memory that won't fade away.

My love for him is like the oceans that crave the shore, a hunger so deep that only his soft lips can quench, a fascination that goes beyond his simplest features, an adoration as pure as the natural tan on his skin, an endearment that reflects in the depths of his dark brown eyes, and a beauty that is as enchanting as the darkness in his night sky hair.

Falling in love with him was like drifting off to sleep - at first, it was a slow and gentle process, and then before I knew it, I was fully consumed and utterly captivated. It was a gradual unraveling, a surrender to something greater than myself. In the end, I fell for him slowly, and then all at once.

My love for him is like a child gazing at the stars - it's full of wonder, adoration, and amazement. Despite not being able to touch the stars, this love continually radiates and illuminates my heart.

“No texts? I understand. No calls? I understand. No time for me? I understand. But when you see me with someone else I hope you understand.”

— Unknown

His laugh is like sunshine on a cloudy day, brightening up the world around him and filling me with warmth. It lights up his face, causing his eyes to squint and his cheeks to rise up, revealing the most endearing dimples. His dark hair, just like the night sky, falls in soft waves around his face, tempting me to run my hands through it every time I see him. And his skin, as if kissed by the sun itself, boasts a gorgeous natural tan that makes him look like he's been lounging on a tropical beach all day. I can't help but be mesmerized by him, drawn to the radiance he brings wherever he goes.

His dimples weren't just mere indentations on his cheeks, but rather charming features that had the power to disarm anyone in their wake. With each flash of his smile, they seemed to deepen, like the craters of the moon becoming more defined under a brighter light. But what truly left me breathless was the way his beautiful tan skin seemed to illuminate with each tug at the corners of his lips. It was as though he had a hidden sun within him that transformed every inch of his skin into a canvas of gold - a sight that filled my heart with a warmth that could rival the shining sun itself.

He's not just a person, he's my favorite song. His words, his melody, his rhythm, are all in sync with the beat of my heart.

Being with him is like holding up a mirror to my soul, revealing parts of myself I never knew existed. Yet, in his hands, that same mirror can become a weapon, reflecting back the pain and hurt he inflicts upon me.

I've never known myself as well as i know myself when i'm with him.