22 June 2069 – what we called love

the beginning

he found me in a forum. i don’t even remember which one. he said i was clever. he liked the way i phrased things. he said he didn’t usually like people.

we moved from messages to voice, from voice to video. i used to put on eyeliner for the camera and pretend i wasn’t hoping he’d say something about it.

the test

i told him i had a tendency to ruin things. he laughed and said, “same.” we called that chemistry. we should’ve called it a warning.

i picked fights to see if he’d stay. he said things just cruel enough that i wouldn’t forget them. we called that passion.

the rules

he said i wasn’t like “the good ones.” he said i was dangerous. he said that was what made it interesting. and i let him say it like it was a compliment.

i started to believe i couldn’t be good. not really. just fun. just temporary. just chaotic enough to be unforgettable, but not enough to be kept.

the break

he disappeared for two weeks. then came back like nothing happened. i didn’t ask where he went. i didn’t want the answer.

he said, “you knew what this was.” i said, “yeah.”

the aftermath

i still flinch when someone calls me beautiful like it’s a promise.

he made me feel like love was something you earned by suffering. and i was such an overachiever.

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