You Never Loved Me…

When I was younger I always wrote. I wrote short stories, poems, and ideas. I wrote on envelopes, in notebooks, on the computer. I just wrote. I have books full of poetry, full of ideas for stories and full of short stories.

And then I stopped.

I am not sure why or when I really stopped but I stopped. I literally stopped putting pen to paper. I still wrote, I wrote diaries, and this blog. But the stories and poems stopped.

Then I started to rewrite the ideas. But nothing ever happened with them.

But the love for writing has always been there, I have always wanted to write.

The other day I wrote. I wrote until I finished, one full short story. It has been read by someone other than me, and they liked it. So I have sat and looked at it, re read it and thought about it. I have never really shown my writing to anyone, I love writing but I am not a pro.

Far from it.

But something has made me want to show it. I am not sure why but for once I thought I would put it on the blog. So here it is… Please be gently!


“You never loved me like I loved you” As she said the words, she looked disappointed, like the world had exploded under her feet.

She looked at him with those beautiful eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, encased with water, ready for the tears to fall.

And he looked at her.

He just didn’t know what to say.

“I have always loved you, but it’s just not…” It’s all he could manage.

“No, you have never loved me, not like I loved you, and that has always been the problem. I have always loved you, adored you, did everything for you, but you never loved me that much, ever!” She fell into the chair, and just looked at the floor.

What was he supposed to say, he did love her, he had always loved her, he adored her. But you know life just got in the way.

He had a wandering eye it was an issue he knew it was. But he tried, because he loved her. He tried for so long.

But life got boring, she wanted so much more, kids, marriage the works.

He didn’t want to commit to anyone for that long.

It wasn’t calculated, it wasn’t planned it just happened.

It was a one night thing, a spur of the moment, drunken stupid mistake. One he would have probably got away with, but after years of doing it, she was always suspicious. She always checked his phone, and in his drunken state, he had given out his number.

It was a stupid mistake.

She saw the message. He hadn’t replied, but she knew. Five years down the line she knew.

As he walked into the room, he knew that she knew, and he knew there was no denying it.

He looked at her, and his heart broke. He had screwed up so badly, so massively.

He did love her, he loved her so much.

“What is wrong with me?” Her tears were flowing freely now, and she looked pleadingly at him.

He rushed across the room, “nothing, there isn’t anything wrong with you. There never has been. You’re perfect” He knelt down beside her and went to grab her hand.

She didn’t snatch it away, she didn’t have the energy, she took her hand away, slowly.

“Then why am I never enough?” She placed her hand on her lap and sat there.

She looked so small.

He had never really noticed how dainty she was. She was always petite, but right now she looked tiny. He wondered when she had got so small.

The freckles on her nose glistened with the tears that were rolling down her face, they were constant now and free-flowing, and she wasn’t even attempting to stop or hide them,

He wanted to grab her arms, shake her and tell her she was always enough. But even he knew that was a massive lie.

If she was enough he wouldn’t have done it the first time, two weeks into them seeing each other. He wouldn’t have done it three months later, or even a year later. If she was good enough he wouldn’t have done it two weeks ago. But he did. So how could he tell her she was good enough?

“You are good enough, you are too good for me, you always have been” the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

She just sat, stared at the floor and shrugged her shoulders. Her hair was starting to unraffle, she had whispers of it hanging past her eyes, and he moved his hand to move them away from her eyes.

“I am so sorry” He looked at her and she stared into his eyes.

The stare bore into his soul, he could feel her pain, feel the sorry, feel the hurt and he sat there, staring back into her eyes.

“Sorry isn’t enough anymore,” she wiped her eyes with the arm of her sleeve as she said the words. “I am not good enough, and sorry isn’t good enough. I don’t know why? Am I not pretty enough?” He shook his head, “too boring, not enough fun,”

He shook his head again, and moved closer to her, holding her knees as he moved along. “I told you, you are perfect, you are pretty enough, you are fun, you aren’t boring, you are perfect”

She looked at him, she looked into his eyes, she looked at his mouth, he could see she was biting the inside of her cheek, something she always did when she was nervous.

“I am perfect am I?” He nodded he didn’t really know where she was going.

“So perfect, so unbelievably perfect that you slept with someone else! Again, after all this time, after all the promises you did it again.” She moved her knees away from his hands.

“What was so special about her?” She almost spat the words at him.

He had nothing to say, there was nothing special about her, he was drunk, she was there, she paid him attention, she was cute, and he knew he could do what he wanted.

There was nothing special.

He looked at her, he shrugged, what could he say.

“What did she have that I don’t? Was she prettier? I want to know”

He looked up at the ceiling, he noticed there was a line in the ceiling it looked like a crack, he wondered when that appeared, he fleetingly wished that maybe it would break right there and then, at least it would distract her. Make her move away from this impossible question.

He couldn’t answer what she, the mistake had, because she didn’t have anything. He was drunk, she showed him attention, he responded, that was it. He didn’t want to be committed, he didn’t want to be just with her forever more. When the mistake was talking to him, it was late, the bar was busy and he didn’t even really register what she looked like, she had good legs that was all he really remembered. The mistake went in for a kiss and he responded, there was nothing stopping him and he didn’t let it. He was selfish. He was so stupid but there was no way he could answer that question.

If he said the mistake had nothing on her, he would be admitting that he wasted their whole life on a drunken mistake, if he said the mistake was prettier then he would be falling into a massive hole. And it wasn’t even true.

“No she wasn’t prettier, I was stupid, I was drunk, there is nothing I can say that will make this is ok. I am sorry”

“I am so sorry” he tried to hold her hand.

She moved it away. “So she wasn’t prettier, but you still went there. Do you hate me that much?”

“No” he was broken. His heart was ripping in two, how could she think that he hated her.

“Why would you do it then? What have I done wrong?” She was in floods of tears, they were flowing freely again, and fresh ones were appearing.

He wanted to wipe them away, he wanted to grab her, pull her close and tell her it would be ok. But he knew it was pointless. He had ruined this, he had ruined the best thing ever to happen to him, and he was never going to change this. He had ruined her.

“You haven’t done anything wrong! It has never been you, it was me, I did a stupid thing, the wrong thing, I am sorry I wish I could go back in time. It isn’t you, please believe me” He didn’t know what else to say.

She pulled her legs up onto the sofa, curled her arms around them and hugged herself. She put her head on her knees and sobbed.

And sobbed.

He sat on the floor, he watched her. He wanted to hold her.

He knew he couldn’t instead he watched her.

In pain, in despair and he knew he caused this.

Silence filled the room.

Every so often a sob filled the air, and he sat and watched. There was a time he would have jumped into the seat next to her, he would have wrapped his arms around her, and he would have hugged her tight. Oh so tight.

But he sat on the floor, he didn’t move, he felt paralysed.

Suddenly the sobs stopped he looked up and she had her head on her knees staring at him.

“Do you love me?” It was a loaded question and one that had to be answered immediately.

“Yes” he had never been so sure of an answer.

“Why do you do it?” Her eyes were so red, they were sore from crying, and were starting to go slightly puffy.

“I don’t know, I am an idiot,” he shrugged, “I honestly don’t know, I wish I did. I wish I didn’t do it, I really do. I love you and I hate hurting you”

“But you continue to do it”

“I know”

She moved her legs, placed them on the floor and stood up. He watched her as she moved. She slowly walked to the door, he wasn’t really sure what was happening, she looked poorly, she looked like she would faint, and he wasn’t sure if he should get up and follow her.

As she got to the door, she stopped and held onto the door frame, she took a big sigh, she looked at the floor and then directly at him.

“As I said, the problem is you never loved me like I loved you, that’s the problem”

And she walked out of the door.

And his heart shattered.

2 thoughts on “You Never Loved Me…”

  • I think this is wonderful. Full of emotion and it made my heart ache for the woman in this story. We can all relate in someway or another and have had our hearts broken. I think this is a great piece hon and I look forward to reading more x

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