Have You Ever

  I was exhausted that night—one of those long days where all you want is the comfort of home, the familiar warmth of your own bed, and the presence of the person who is supposed to be yours. I walked into our apartment, expecting exactly that. Instead, I got a nightmare. There he was— in our bed , tangled up with another girl, so lost in the moment that they didn’t even notice me standing there. Our bed. Our space. The place that had held five years of love, whispered conversations, shared dreams—and in one brutal instant, all of it shattered. A wave of nausea rolled over me. My heart pounded, my skin burned, but I didn’t make a sound. I just… stood there, drowning in the realization. Everything we built, everything I trusted, everything I thought was mine—had been a lie. I could have screamed. I could have broken something. I could have let rage take over, forced him to face what he had done. But what was the point? Why waste my energy on someone who had so effortlessly bet...

  I had travelled miles to see him—my long-distance boyfriend, the one I had built hopes and dreams around, despite the space between us. When he left for work that day, I found myself alone in his apartment. It was quiet, intimate, filled with pieces of his life that I had never fully stepped into before. Wanting to be helpful—maybe even prove I belonged in his space—I began tidying up. That’s when I found them. A bundle of letters. Handwritten, carefully tucked away, and not just from me . My heart lurched before my mind even caught up. There were letters from other girls , all long-distance, like me. I was just one name in a collection. I froze. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears, my body tense, waiting for the moment where this would make sense—where I could rationalize it, explain it away. But I couldn’t. The truth sat there, ink on paper, staring back at me. I opened one. The words spilled out, full of warmth, romance, longing—the kind I thought was reserved for me . ...