I still remember that day. No matter how much I try to forget, I'll always remember. It's was one of those major turning points in my life. I still can't believe it happened to me, but it did. And like other people in this world, I learned from it and moved on. What happened to me, you ask? Well then, let me tell you a story. I'll take you back a couple of years; to a time when I was only 17 and dating the school's number one bachelor. And in a green-grassed park, our story begins.
"Asshole!" A loud 'plop' was heard as an angry hand connected with its intended victim.
'What the-' Said victim was stopped mid-sentence as a hand imprinted itself on his right cheek.
"How could you?! I trusted you! You promised you'd stop! You swore that you wouldn't do this to me again! That 'that' was the last time!"
'What are you-'
"You cheated on me! AGAIN!"
"What do you mean 'oh'?! You're just gonna sit there and say that?!"
'Well what am I supposed to do?'
'There's nothing to explain.'
"Like hell there's not! Tell me why I'm not good enough. Tell me why you're never satisfied with just me. Tell me why you cheat on me! CONSTANTLY! "
'Why should I explain myself to you?'
"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I'm your girlfriend. You know the one you said you'd love me forever; the one you said you'd be faithful to!"
'I don't remember making that commitment.'
"Yes, you do. I know you do."
'Then I don't remember selling myself and my soul to you.'
"Argh! Forget it then! Just tell me why you cheat on me!"
'Why should I? Just because you're my girlfriend doesn't mean I'm gonna change my whole lifestyle just to please you. I'm not gonna change who I am.'
With tear-filled eyes, she walked away; knowing there really was nothing she could do. This had happened many times before. They would have a week or two of peace, and then he'd cheat on her. She'd fuss and cry her heart out, and he'd just sit there and tell her to suck it up. And in the end, she would just forgive him and the cycle would start all over again. But not this time. This time, she knew she was walking away for good. She knew that she couldn't deal with that kind of heart-break his cheatings brought. She just couldn't take it, not anymore. And so, she walked on; to a new life, a life that didn't include a cheating bastard of a boyfriend who didn't a flying pig's behind whether or not she was heart-broken. And in time, she learned her lesson and moved on.
And here I am, 8 years later. I'm now 25 and I'm happy. That's right. I'm truly happy. I have a home, a dog, a daughter, and most importantly I have-
"Hon, what're you doing outside so late? It's freezing out here."
I have my husband. My sweet, loving, not-bastard like husband. He treats me like a queen and always puts our family first. As he wraps his arms around me, I snuggled into his chest and let his warmth engulf me. Then I start thinking. And that's when it hits me. I'm so relieved I left that jerk wad. If I hadn't, I'd probably be the most miserable girl in the world, but I'm not. In fact, it's the exact opposite.
"Love, let's go inside okay? You might catch a cold, and we wouldn't want that now would we?"
I'm happy. Truly, completely, near-fainting happy. And I love it.
"Sure love, as long as you're there."
And hand-in-hand we walked into our home. Complete and blissful.