bastard

The last time was five days ago.

I realized it had been a long time since we'd last made love, and I

nervously begged you.

You finally complied, taking off your clothes and kneeling between my legs.

There was no passion,

just a physical reaction.

You checked my wetness with your hand,

stroked your erection a few times, and then thrust in

. I bit my lip and groaned.

You lowered your head and sucked on my nipples;

you knew that would bring me to a quick climax,

but when I looked up, I saw your expressionless face.

I remembered asking you

what you were thinking about before your climax, and

I knew the answer wasn't the me in front of you.

As you thrust vigorously,

I could only tilt my head back, avoiding reading your eyes,

avoiding the thought that we were merely releasing our desires. After

wiping away your bodily fluids,

we each put on our clothes and went to bed.

These past few nights, you've frowned and gone to sleep early,

wrapped yourself in the blanket, and turned your back to me

. We didn't hold hands, we didn't cuddle.

You argued that it was because we were giving each other the silent treatment.

I woke up to find you leaving early, looking a little guilty.

Even though I was sick, you wouldn't sacrifice a moment to come home early and keep me company.

I just listened silently to others talking about

your relationship with her.

So we had a cold war.

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One year, eleven months, and fourteen days later,

I made up my mind to break up with you.

Before leaving, I held you and listened to you talk about how many problems we had for so long.

Your tears were so many that I forgot how I made the decision to leave you. You were full of lies .

"How about we try again?"

you refused, your eyes red,

telling me you were rushing to a date.

You promised it wasn't the junior who caused our arguments.

"Why would I lie to you on the last day?"

You wore the coat I picked out for you and even washed your hair.

I know you too well.

So I heard the expected news:

you spent all your time with that junior who had a boyfriend,

and she replaced me, accompanying you on your adventures.

A few days ago, you loudly proclaimed that I absolutely hadn't had any contact with her.

I exposed your lie, and

you angrily said we should break up.

So I went directly to that

junior you'd known for two weeks, the one who'd caused us to argue for two weeks.

She was surprised that you had a girlfriend.

She apologized, saying,

"I look very feminine, but I have a very masculine personality, don't worry."

Naively, I asked her to keep my inquiries about you two a secret.

The next day, she innocently apologized, saying she didn't know you had a girlfriend.

You two are still meeting every day behind my back.

No one can change for anyone else,

so we're both just trying to squeeze into the boxes we've drawn for each other.

You're still unfaithful, and

I'm not perfect.

Even the slightest gap

makes all our efforts worthless.

I lost to that junior you kept telling your friends about, saying she looked like your ex-girlfriend but was prettier and more obedient.

So, two weeks replaced my two years.

While I was still in your room reminiscing,

you'd already let that junior sit in my seat and go pick out the shoes we should have bought together.

This isn't betrayal.

You said you didn't do anything wrong to me,

just that our values are different.

Shared values—you two, hiding your partners from each other and constantly meeting up in secret, are so compatible.

Before leaving,

I wrapped my arms around your waist, but you pushed me away roughly. I pulled my hand away, hurt by your touch,

and, unwilling to give up, I reached into your erect lower body again

. You frowned, rolled over, and yelled at me.

I stared at the ceiling, thinking

, "That's right.

I have to work to earn money and can't accompany you to weight training, running, or playing ball.

So you leave early and come home late every day, letting your junior accompany you for so long. You

must be exhausted. I'm not considerate enough, that 's why I became your ex-girlfriend. I 'm so pathetic. " In the second month of our relationship, I discovered your lies for the first time. I cried, confessed my mistakes, and begged you to change . I was pathetic. You pretended to be single, and your words were ambiguous . I reflected on myself . I was pathetic. You almost cheated on me, but I smiled, hugged you, forgave you, and celebrated your birthday . I was utterly pathetic. How could I have thought that if I loved you sincerely and wholeheartedly every day, you would reciprocate with equal affection? I even thought that for two years we had never grown tired of each other in bed. Now I realize that you were already fed up, just like your excellent acting skills— acting that you loved me, acting that we were loving and sweet. Before you left, I forced a smile and said, "Want some chicken?" Usually, you 're the one who begs, but this time I was the one kneeling and begging, trying to salvage something with my utterly shattered dignity. Then you frowned, pushed me away, and turned to leave. I guess you've really met your baby girl this time. She has a boyfriend, and you had a girlfriend before . It doesn't matter; let this paranoid jerk step aside and let your meaningless, purely platonic friendship continue.

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