I paced back and forth on top of the shattered parts of, what used to be, the fine China. I kept telling myself not to call. He had to call me first; he had to show me that he cared, even a little, about me. The littlest glimmer of hope would keep me going, and that’s all I needed. Sad thing is, even after he broke my heart, I still needed him.

My place is a mess; I was angry and sad. He told me he didn’t love me anymore, that I was just part of a little fling he needed to make him feel like he still had his charm. I didn’t care, though. I needed him, he was part of my life and I couldn’t just let him walk out, like he had never been there.

“Quit calling me, quit texting me, just quit it!” He yelled over and over again, but I couldn’t help it. I was addicted to his love; his voice; his warmth. I had to be with him, I just had to! I would stalk him till no end, until he realized that I was the one for him!

I didn’t care anymore if his wife found out.