‘You can’t just leave!’, I shouted, trying not to let my voice show her how hurt I was. How broken. How desperately I wanted her to stay. I looked at her, but she kept her gaze down, slowly shaking her head, strands of her blond hair covering her eyes. Those deep, blue, ocean eyes.
‘I can. And I will.’, she said calmly, eventually looking up. Her face didn’t show a single emotion. Did she really not care at all about all this? About us? About me? I thought I would mean at least a bit to her. But apparently not. Otherwise she wouldn’t have chosen Reiner. Not to sound selfish, but that jerk didn’t deserve her. Not at all. He was just so … I don’t know. He seemed so self-centered. I doubt that he cares about Historia the way I do. This girl deserves to be treated like a queen. But apparently that was not what Historia was looking for.
She sighed and grabbed her coat from the chair in the kitchen. ‘My uber-driver should be here any moment.’ She looked at me. I looked back, trying to figure out what exactly was going on inside her. Nothing. Historia turned around and made her way to the door. And I … I just stood there, frozen. I couldn’t let her go, but I couldn’t figure out any way to make her stay.
‘Historia, please!’
She didn’t stop, nothing that showed that she regretted her decision at least a little bit. I couldn’t move, my eyes were basically glued to the back of her head. This blonde, soft hair I ran my fingers through so many times.
Even though every part of me tried to resist this, a loud sob escaped my lips. Fuck. I hated showing feelings. Historia was actually the very first person I was with where I allowed myself to be me. To even show weakness from time to time. It was still one of the things that scared me the most. Appearing vulnerable.
“Please don’t leave me.”
My voice was cracking, I took a deep breath and bit my lip. And for a very short moment Historia stopped and her movements became more hesitating.
“I’m sorry, Ymir.”
These were the last words that left her lips, almost too silent for me to even hear them. Then she left and the last thing I heard was the door closing shut and footsteps running down the stairs.
Almost automatically my feet made their way to the kitchen, to the window from where I could see the street in front of the house. Historia stood there, next to a black car with tinted windows. And Reiner was there, too, he was leaning against the back of that car. When Historia came out of the building he smiled, approached her only to place one hand on her waist and a kiss on her forehead. Unfortunately, her hair covered her face so I couldn’t see if she was smiling. But that was better for me, I assumed.
I clenched my fist, so hard that even my short nails were digging into the skin of my palm.
That bastard.
When Historia got in the car he looked up, directly at me as if he had already known I was standing there, watching them. He even had the nerve to slightly smile at me. As if he’d conquered me or something. As if Historia was his trophy that showed his victory over me. This man was so disgusting. Historia was nothing but a toy for him, someone to brag with, and someone to be seen with. I knew that outside he’d pretend to be the perfect boyfriend, caring, courteous, protective. But as soon as they were home, alone, he wouldn’t care for her, except when it would come to his desires.
At least that’s how I expected him to behave. Maybe it was just a product of my jealousy that wouldn’t let me realize that Reiner maybe really was better for her, and that Historia actually could become happy with him.
Afraid that Reiner could read my face I turned around. From the corner of my eyes I could see him get on the back seat of the car next to Historia. And I was somehow glad they were finally leaving. I couldn’t stand seeing them together.
---
I felt as empty as back in the days where I was all alone, not knowing who I was, not really having a name or an existence. Before I met Historia.
I sank down to the floor in the hallway, closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall. Within a few minutes I lost the most important part of my life. The person that meant everything.
Where did I go wrong?
I don’t think I ever told Historia how much she actually meant to me. We also hadn’t been together for a very long time, officially together at least. Almost a year. Even though things started way earlier. But in the beginning, everything was just more of an open on-off relationship. We hooked up from time to time, went to several clubs, Historia pretending to find a guy and me pretending to help her even though we both knew that we’d end up in my bed. Together.
But I never dragged her to make things official, to decide and to state what exactly the thing between us was. I didn’t want her to feel constrained or anything like that, not only because I was the first woman she was with, also because she told me her parents were very conservative. I didn’t want her to get in trouble.
And I admit it, I was kind of afraid to confess how much she really started meaning to me in such a short amount of time. I didn’t want to acknowledge that I saw more than a friend or fuckbuddy in her. Because it scared me that I caught feelings, on top of that such strong feelings, so quick. That has never happened before. Which as well made me realize that Historia was different. My soulmate, even though that sounds corny as shit. My feelings for her were different. I’ve had several relationships before, not many, but enough to be able to compare them to Historia.
All this went on for … let’s say a bit over a year. And then Historia was the one who asked to make our relationship official. Not in public, at least not to everyone. But for us. She asked me to be her girlfriend. And I was so overwhelmed and happy. I refused to believe that all this should be over now. Everything we had.
I just wished I was more honest with her. About my feelings I mean. I wished I would’ve told her how much she really meant to me; how special she was to me. I don’t know if she knew, but I never specifically said it to her. And now I’ll probably never again have the chance to do so.
But why Reiner? Why him? She could’ve had anyone. I always saw how people looked at her whenever we were outside. And not only boys. But mostly. Hardly surprising. Historia was stunning. Not merely her character. Her bright, blue eyes, her soft, blond hair, and her smile. My god, that smile.
But why, of all other people she could have, did she choose him? Reiner, the biggest jerk I’ve ever met. It just didn’t make sense to me. To be honest, it didn’t really even make sense to me that she left me at all. I thought she was happy. I thought we were happy. Together. Was it something with her parents? Did they force Historia to get together with Reiner?
I didn’t know her parents very well, I’ve met them twice or so, but that was enough. It wouldn’t surprise me if they forced Historia into this relationship. In their eyes Reiner was probably perfect for their princess. Tall, popular, from a wealthy family. The exact opposite of me. He was perfect. Highest graduation, and probably about to be the next head of his father’s company. God dammit, why do I know so much about this bastard? Right, Historia had told me about him. Not often, she just complained that her parents always reproached her with what a perfect guy he was. Comments, that subtly meant that they wanted him and Historia to get married and have lots of children together. But Historia also always told me how ridiculous this behavior was in her eyes. And how disgusting Reiner was to her.
“He doesn’t really have much respect for women. He’s that kind of guy that thinks a woman belongs in the kitchen and who wants his girlfriend to stay at home, look pretty and be completely dependent on him.” She said all that with a face that clearly showed her disgust about his attitude.
Was this all a lie?
I buried my face in my arms which I’ve rested on my knees. I couldn’t prevent a single tear from running down my face. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Maybe I didn’t mean as much to her as I thought I did. Maybe I was kind of an experiment for her. Maybe she saw the past two years as an adventure, a break from her stereotypical, normal, boring life. But now she’s had enough and wants to get back to her usual, previous life.
The last thing I wanted to do now was to drown in self-hatred and doubts again, but I couldn’t help. Too many questions were running through my head.
What if I did things in a different way? Was there anything I should’ve done different? I could or should’ve done better? Did I hurt her without noticing? Did I give her the impression I didn’t love her?
“Fuck!”, I whispered, my voice thin and raspy.
How do I shut my fucking brain off? I don’t have the energy to overthink about every single thing that I did in the past weeks. But I still do. My brain automatically starts overanalyzing everything, every single situation from the past weeks. Everything I said, everything she said. I even tried to remember if she behaved differently or anything. But I couldn’t remember. And that stressed me out. I felt horrible because I knew that it must have been my fault. I must have done something wrong.
I furrowed my eyebrows, my teeth clenched as I aggressively ran my fingers through my hair. Then I abruptly got up and made my way to the living room, directly to the cupboard next to the TV and opened it. I hated myself because alcohol seemed to be the only thing I could think about when it came to coping mechanisms. Why wasn’t I able to handle things in a normal way? My other coping mechanism had been sex, healthier than drinking, but well, kind of hard to practice when you just got dumped. So, I had to take the other opportunity.
I didn’t want to fall back into old habits. But I kept telling myself it was just this time, only tonight, that I just needed distraction until tomorrow, when I could maybe see this whole situation clearer. When I would be calmer and wouldn’t feel the shock that deeply anymore.
I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and poured the liquid into one of the glasses that were standing on the counter. Then I took the bottle as well as the glass with me to the sofa where I sat down. There was no need to lie, I knew I would drink more than one glass.
I took a sip, bigger than I intended and hated myself for it. This wasn’t a solution. I hated myself for being better at drinking my feelings away than talking about them. And I guess that was the main problem.
How could you be so emotionally dependent on one single person that they could leave you as a total mess as soon as they were gone? When did I even allow myself to become so attached to a person, to become so vulnerable? In a way that I couldn't come up with anything but drinking my feelings and my pain away? And even though I told myself it was only today, that I’d feel better tomorrow, that everything would be fine again in a few days.
But a tiny part of me knew that that was not true. That I wouldn’t stop drowning my sadness in whisky or any other strong alcohol. That I wouldn’t get over this so fast.
I grabbed the bottle and filled my glass again, taking a big sip to silent this voice in my head that was whispering all these verities to me, at least for tonight.