My boyfriend of two years broke up with me over text.
No, my fiancé of a lifetime, if our families had anything to say about it.
Maybe I should have cried, or begged him to meet me face to face.
But I didn't. I just stared at the message until the words lost their meaning.
I had a feeling this was coming. He'd been distant for months, and I kept pretending not to notice.
He stopped calling at night, stopped asking about my day, and whenever we met, there was this wall invisible, but impossible to ignore.
And yet, I kept convincing myself it was just a phase. That we'd go back to how we were.
Looking back now, I can't tell whether I was hopeful or just stupid.
When we met today, he didn't even try to hide the indifference in his eyes. He looked the same calm, composed, perfect. The kind of man who could ruin you without raising his voice.
He didn't yell. He didn't apologize. He just said it, like he was reading a prepared script.
"Let's not drag this out. You know I don't love you, Flora."
It's strange I didn't feel my heart break. I just felt… embarrassed.
Embarrassed that I ever thought what we had was real.
We weren't lovers. We were a family arrangement, a childhood promise carried too long.
He was my best friend, my comfort zone and somewhere along the line, I confused that with love.
And the worst part? I think I knew it all along.
But I didn't want to admit it.
Because admitting it meant everything I believed in every dream I built would crumble.
When I came home, I expected the pain to hit me all at once. It didn't.
I just went to my room, sat on the edge of the bed, and stared at the wall until it blurred.
The truth is, I'm not heartbroken. I'm angry.
Not at him at myself.
For being so naïve.
For waiting for someone who was already halfway gone.
For loving the idea of him more than the person he became.
I keep thinking about how my life revolved around him our engagement, our future, our families.
I never thought about what I wanted.
Everything I did my choices, my plans they were all built around the thought of "us."
And now that "us" doesn't exist, I don't even know where to start.
Maybe that's why this doesn't hurt the way it should.
Maybe deep down, I already knew our story wasn't meant to last.
Still, the sting of it lingers.
I hate how calm I was in front of him, how polite.
He should've seen how small he made me feel.
But I refused to give him that satisfaction.
If he could let go so easily, then I'll make it look effortless too.
I've decided something I'm not going to chase him, or prove anything.
Not because I'm strong, but because I'm tired.
Tired of trying to be enough.
Tired of living by someone else's expectations.
It's funny I never thought about what kind of person I wanted to be.
My grades were average, my interests simple, my world small.
The only thing I truly loved was art the one thing that belonged only to me.
Maybe that's where I'll start again.
The next morning, the sunlight felt too bright for someone whose world had just cracked open.
I got ready for school anyway. Life doesn't pause just because your heart does.
At school, no one treated me differently.
Because no one knew who I really was
To them, I was just Flora Campbell quiet, average, easy to overlook.
They didn't know that "Campbell" was the same name etched on tall glass towers downtown.
I liked it that way. It made things simpler.
Let Austin be the rich, charming one; the golden boy everyone adored.
News still traveled fast, though.
The moment he started walking around with Grace Watson, laughter brighter than ever, people began to talk.
Not about me, about them.
That's how I preferred it.
During lunch, I saw them together at our usual table, the one I'd stopped going to weeks ago.
Grace sat where I used to. She looked so natural there, like she had always belonged.
And maybe she did.
I didn't stop walking.
I bought a sandwich, found an empty corner near the art room, and ate in silence.
For the first time, I saw things clearly.
Love doesn't vanish in one day, it fades quietly, like a shadow in the evening light.
And the moment you stop waiting for it to come back… that's when you start living again.
Maybe this is my chance , to stop being someone's fiancée and learn how to be myself.
As I packed my bag after class, the sky outside turned a soft shade of grey.
A quiet breeze brushed against my face through the open window.
And for some reason, I felt it, a shift.
Like something was about to change.
I just didn't know what yet.