It wasn’t your fault for not loving me,“ she said. “I say that honestly, without the smallest ounce of self-pity.

“It takes a whole lot for someone to love another person. Sometimes it’s there and sometimes it’s not. I shouldn’t have expected as much as I did. 

She thought for a minute before saying quietly:

"I thought if I gave you everything it would be enough though. I thought, at least, it would be enough for you to love me just a little bit.

Imagine this,“ he said. “You meet her at a party. She’s wearing a red dress that catches your eye. But really, you’re just focusing on her smile; the way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she laughs. The way she brushes off compliments like she doesn’t quite believe them. The way she gestures with both of her hands.

"Imagine you fall in love with her,” he said. “Imagine that on the first morning you wake up next you her, you’ve already decided that you could spend the rest of your life by her side. Imagine getting to know her.

"Imagine deciding you want to marry her; confirming everything you ever thought. Imagine planning a future. Planning a life. Allowing yourself to dream. Feeling like things are finally falling into place; like you’ve finally figured it out.”

“Now,” he said, “imagine that one day you walk into the kitchen and she is already awake. Imagine her sitting you down with an expression you don’t recognise. Imagine her facial expression as she tells you things don’t feel the same anymore; that she doesn’t feel the same anymore. Imagine the sinking in your stomach, the punch to the gut. Imagine watching her walk away after a half-hearted-suddenly-awkward hug.

"Imagine a week later she comes to collect the box you’ve put all her belongings into. They spill out; her clothes; her toothbrush; her hair bobbles; pieces of her you never imagined you’d have to miss. Imagine you keep her scarf; the one she never wears anymore; the one that still smells like her.

"The thought alone is enough to destroy a person,” he says, “don’t you think?” He paused to look at his hands. “Now imagine it actually happens. Imagine the pain that follows that kind of love.

Imagine this,“ he said. “You meet her at a party. She’s wearing a red dress that catches your eye. But really, you’re just focusing on her smile; the way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she laughs. The way she brushes off compliments like she doesn’t quite believe them. The way she gestures with both of her hands.

"Imagine you fall in love with her,” he said. “Imagine that on the first morning you wake up next you her, you’ve already decided that you could spend the rest of your life by her side. Imagine getting to know her.

"Imagine deciding you want to marry her; confirming everything you ever thought. Imagine planning a future. Planning a life. Allowing yourself to dream. Feeling like things are finally falling into place; like you’ve finally figured it out.”

“Now,” he said, “imagine that one day you walk into the kitchen and she is already awake. Imagine her sitting you down with an expression you don’t recognise. Imagine her facial expression as she tells you things don’t feel the same anymore; that she doesn’t feel the same anymore. Imagine the sinking in your stomach, the punch to the gut. Imagine watching her walk away after a half-hearted-suddenly-awkward hug.

"Imagine a week later she comes to collect the box you’ve put all her belongings into. They spill out; her clothes; her toothbrush; her hair bobbles; pieces of her you never imagined you’d have to miss. Imagine you keep her scarf; the one she never wears anymore; the one that still smells like her.

"The thought alone is enough to destroy a person,” he says, “don’t you think?” He paused to look at his hands. “Now imagine it actually happens. Imagine the pain that follows that kind of love.

Imagine this,“ he said. “You meet her at a party. She’s wearing a red dress that catches your eye. But really, you’re just focusing on her smile; the way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she laughs. The way she brushes off compliments like she doesn’t quite believe them. The way she gestures with both of her hands.

"Imagine you fall in love with her,” he said. “Imagine that on the first morning you wake up next you her, you’ve already decided that you could spend the rest of your life by her side. Imagine getting to know her.

"Imagine deciding you want to marry her; confirming everything you ever thought. Imagine planning a future. Planning a life. Allowing yourself to dream. Feeling like things are finally falling into place; like you’ve finally figured it out.”

“Now,” he said, “imagine that one day you walk into the kitchen and she is already awake. Imagine her sitting you down with an expression you don’t recognise. Imagine her facial expression as she tells you things don’t feel the same anymore; that she doesn’t feel the same anymore. Imagine the sinking in your stomach, the punch to the gut. Imagine watching her walk away after a half-hearted-suddenly-awkward hug.

"Imagine a week later she comes to collect the box you’ve put all her belongings into. They spill out; her clothes; her toothbrush; her hair bobbles; pieces of her you never imagined you’d have to miss. Imagine you keep her scarf; the one she never wears anymore; the one that still smells like her.

"The thought alone is enough to destroy a person,” he says, “don’t you think?” He paused to look at his hands. “Now imagine it actually happens. Imagine the pain that follows that kind of love.