When you left my house, nearly two weeks after we had broken up, eating my food, using my AC, Wi-Fi, watching my Netflix you could not even look me in the eye and say thank you or goodbye. Instead you thanked my roommate, who I was dropping off on my way to work, for “everything” and you wished her the best of luck. It was then I really realized that the year we spent together was a blip on your radar.
Honestly, I was the fool to believe in our “love” story. It was a shitty movie-like fairytale. We both were on the same walking tour in Moscow. Me an American, you an Austrian, about to study abroad in America. In the PG-tale I told people, I left out the part where we both got really drunk that same night we were partying in Moscow (white Russians in Russia, it was funnier at the time). After we got drunk, we went for a walk outside and my cousin said she would stay and she didn’t. You kindly invited me to your hotel and we both know what happened after.
I was so ashamed. I told my mom, I cried the entire 7-hour train journey from St. Petersburg to Tallinn, Estonia. Then things started to get better, we started talking again via Facebook messenger. As I made my way through Europe, our relationship blossomed. We talked about everything, we stared to skype, we made plans to meet up when you come to Washington DC.
In DC, I had made up my mind that if we were going to see each other anymore, and be more than just a couple of one night stands. You agreed, hesitantly I’ll admit. We had a really good time that weekend. We planned to meet again in Los Angeles, one month later, where you were studying abroad.
In LA, we fell in love. You came back to visit me in Baltimore, four times. You met my friends, made a great impression. Met my dad and brother who were in LA and made me believe you loved me. We went to Cancun, we had a blast. My winter break was spent in LA, I got you a thoughtful gift for Christmas, I was excited to meet your family over skype. You gave me some green tea you didn’t want. We went to my friend Sam’s wedding in Phoenix, you met my best friend’s family. You met my own family, who welcomed their home.
Then we finally had a month together instead of just a weekend. It was so nice coming home after school to find the person you love in your kitchen. Having a cup of tea with you, going grocery shopping with you, just having your warmth in my cold bed every night. I cried streams when you flew out from NYC back to Vienna. We had to wait two months to see each other again. I counted down the days. I bought another trip out to Germany missing four days of school because I loved you. Money meant nothing to me.
The time you were in Europe was very difficult for me. You told me how lonely you were constantly and I tried to be there for you. If you called when I was tried or studying, I dropped it all because it was you. You, you, you occupied my mind and thoughts. I woke up and relished each day to talk to you. But you didn’t like to message, so I modulated myself, whatever YOU wanted, I was ready to do.
It was funny because as time went on of course things got worse and I swept it under the rug. In Germany, after we hadn’t seen each other for two months, the first thing you told me was that you were a “tourist” in other people’s lives. I had no fucking clue what that meant, but I just threw the thoughts, and the doubt, out.
Our love life was... in my opinion great. I enjoyed myself, but I could never make you feel the same way. There were days where we didn’t do anything except focusing on you. You never finished. You could hardly hold yourself up. I didn’t want to shame you. But as time went on, we didn’t love each other in that way anymore. When you came for the summer, you didn’t want to touch me at all for the week things were ok for.
Then it happened. I saw it. I knew you were watching porn. And with porn, you could enjoy yourself sexually, in a way that you NEVER could with me. I didn’t use porn, I didn’t realize how big of a red flag that was. I saw Koceva and Kristy, two girls with nice boobs and much nicer bodies and features than myself smiling back at you on the phone. They were framed by the tinder frame and I knew how you all met, anonymously online.
I approached you about it and at first, you were shocked and tried to explain it. “I was just bored of porn, it was nothing, sorry I hid it from you.” According to you, you never messaged or met up with anyone. But you swiped right on many, many profiles. Each time I came to visit you, you deleted the app and the screenshots of the girls you’d jack off to later. Then you turned the tables and threw it back onto me. “Why don’t you trust me enough.” I was a fool enough for about 24-hours. I tried talking to you, and each time you acted like it was my fault somehow. You always wanted something else. How many times did you make a comment that some girl we had seen was beautiful.
I remember that you told me one day my arms were big, and maybe they were, but told me both that the cashier at Safeway was hot and that “we should have a threesome with her” then we came home and you touched a picture of my best friend, slowly gliding the area over her covered chest and told me how hot she was. I felt like shit.
I thought something was wrong with me. I tried to lose weight. We had another month separation between the last time you visited and the next. I worked out my arms, my legs, my ass, my stomach, you didn’t notice. Or care.
After asking you for help on how to proceed on the tinder situation, you didn’t do anything. I called my mom, told you that and you were upset that she’d found out the disgusting thing you did. You lied to me, each time you told me you loved me on the phone. You lied. I felt like a fool, trusting you there was no one else.
We were never in a relationship. It was you, me, and the girl you were always looking for.
I wish you the best of luck.