David wished me well, told me he hoped I would find happiness, and walked away without looking back.
That night, I sat in my studio apartment and tried to process the fact that I was officially single again.
I poured myself a glass of wine and looked through the box of photos I’d kept from my time with David.
Looking at those images, I could see how happy we’d been, how right we’d seemed together.
We’d complemented each other in important ways.
His stability balancing my impulsiveness, my social energy drawing him out of his natural reserve.
I’d destroyed it all with one moment of calculated cruelty.
One decision to use love as a weapon instead of a foundation.
The measuring tape still sits in my dresser drawer, though I’m not sure why I kept it.
Maybe it serves as a reminder of the power of words to build or destroy. Of how quickly love can turn to indifference when trust is broken.
