Most of the time when people think of a love story, they think of it in four phases: the first encounter, the honeymoon phase, the heartbreak, and the happily-ever-after. You think of a likable lead that isn't going to get their love interest at first, but manages to win them over from the arms of another and live in perfect harmony from then on out and everything is sunshine and rainbows. No one ever asks about the other side, though. You see, my first love story ended at phase three; the heartbreak.
Marigold and I were, in my mind, perfect for each other. I really cared for her, and she really cared for me. We may have drifted for a bit near the end, but life was hectic and unstable and I was trying to re-right our ship by focusing on not losing my job. This, in turn, lead me to spend less time at home, and less time with Marigold as a result. She isn't the type to like being alone, so she compensated by spending more time with her friends. I had no problem with this; initially, that is.
One night my friend's told me that had seen some guy hitting on Marigold. Real charismatic charmer, apparently. They reassured me that she wasn't reciprocating, but she wasn't rebuking either. I asked her that night how her night went and she said it was great. She talked about how her and her friends played bar bingo and won free shots for the night. No mention of this alluring new friend of hers.
My nights at work afterwards were filled with less working, more texting my friends as they acted as lookout for me when Marigold was out. Her new friend always seemed to be there, and always seemed to find her. She became less closed off and more friendly toward him as time went on. The final straw was the night they saw him kiss her. She pushed him off and said that she had a boyfriend and left immediately, leaving him a dejected mess. You'll notice that he's reached the heartbreak phase before I have; a sure sign of what's to come. That night I confronted Marigold and got in a rather heated argument where she called it quits. Said she was tired of the same old routine of me working endlessly and she needed some excitement in her life.
There was no convincing her to stay. She was gone by the next night. It didn't even occur to me to tell my friends until they began texting me that she was at the bar again, openly cheating on me this time. I turn my phone off for the night and attempt to get back to work. My heartbreak phase is here, but my happily ever after is having her's with someone else.