It seems almost ridiculous that one single person can have the power to absolutely destroy someone, but that power, given willingly in many cases, is often exchanged between lovers.  Sometimes, rather than exchanged, it is only given, leaving one person that much more vulnerable.  Thus was the case, and was why she was walking along unfamiliar streets in an unfamiliar city.

Despite the late hour, several pedestrians passed and she tried to hide her face, ashamed of the ugly black veins her mascara made as she cried.  It had been hours, but the tears would not stop.

She was so stupid.  Although the warning signs were there, she believed him when he said she was the only one, that his dating profile was still active because he just hadn’t gotten around to deleting it, that the other women she saw him chat with on social media was just harmless flirting and nothing more.  She ignored her doubts and after six months of constant communication, she was ready to give her heart, her body, to another man, and she drove the few hours to finally meet him in person.

Oh, how happy she was when she first saw him, first pressed her lips against his, first felt his arms around her.  The smell of his warm skin, the weight of his body on hers, the moment he slipped inside her- it was thrilling and for the first time in a while she felt loved and protected, calm and complete.

For two days it had been sex, and walks, and naps, and food, and drinks, and more sex, and she couldn’t remember a time in her life when she was so happy to be with another person.

It was all an illusion.

After they had finished making love yet again, she lay naked in the hotel bed, her body still fluid, her smile almost painful, and she reached for his phone.  A playful idea, she thought, snapping a few pictures of herself, something to surprise him after they had parted.  It was after only the first picture that the text came through.

I miss you baby. Where are you?

Her stomach plummeted.  A million excuses ran through her mind in the seconds before she searched through the rest of his messages, but none of them came to fruition.  It was clear from the words she read (words that he had used on her!) that he was a liar.  She wasn’t the only one.  She was one of not even two, but of many.

She screamed, she cried, she ignored his apologies and pleas, and ordered him out.  Then she fell apart.

When her body ached from sobbing, she decided she couldn’t be there anymore, not with the scent of him still clinging to the sheets.  She was in no state to make the long drive home, so she just walked, her heart shattering into more pieces with every step.

She had no idea where she was going, she was just hoping to find a place to hide until she gained enough strength to retrieve her things and go home.  It was getting darker and fear was joining her sadness, and then she saw it.  The neon sign was blurry through her watery eyes, but it called to her, a beacon, a place of refuge.

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