memoirs
Life Romance

Memoirs of a Side Chick

The owner of The Memoirs of a Military Girlfriend has come to me with another article. Again, she wishes to remain unnamed. Here is her piece.

Memoirs of a Side Chick

If we don’t get caught as we fall we experience something called breaking.

I broke that day. I broke into these big shards of who I was when I was with you.

On one piece left broken was my heart, and the other was my head. My lungs lie separately, one next to the other. My eyes were face down so I couldn’t see. Lastly, my soul was stained on every one of those.

I got up and struggled to connect my two lungs so I could at least breathe in my sorrow.

Left broken again once more I was, two days later when you text me and told me you “loved me” and that you “missed us.”

I think the biggest piece of me broke through around the 20th, when the pictures were posted. You know, the ones in uniform with her in the cream dress. She looked so happy.

She was that girl I didn’t know who stole my heart.

The girl in the blue overalls she was. She was blessed with the really pretty eyes and the height that fit yours just right.

I didn’t find the will to get up for three days. The weight of a year and a half crushing my lungs as if each day weighed a ton.

Every breath of air felt like an inhalation of water and I drowned in my own tears.

Eventually, though I got back up, and I started picking up the pieces.

I forced my lungs back together while putting my heart in between them. All I wanted was to save the remains of my heart and soul.

My soul expanded between those pieces. I searched for my head. It was put back on my shoulders. I got my eyes to see the road ahead once more.

But you kept tripping me, and with every text that brokenness returned.

Part of me appreciated that you seemed to care how I was doing. Part of me wanted to play this secret game you kept restarting.

A part of me believed that you still loved me and that your love for her was temporary. You told me ours was forever.

I was wrong. But the posts kept coming. Entire poems on Instagram proclaiming your love for that girl I didn’t know.

More proof that she actually came before I did. She stole your heart before it was ever mine.

How easy it was to fall back into it with you. I will never know why.

To fall back and to rise up like an ocean tide turned by the moon. You had a way to say just the right things to make me try again and again for the love you gave.

I was the ocean, and you were the moon. The stars were the distance. It seemed to me that there were galaxies between us.

And she was your sun.

For two years, I obeyed your gravity.

When I was up, I would pull back out again. I was good on my own, until a message from you returned me crashing onto the shore.

For two years you promised I was still yours, even though I never gave myself back.

You had us both and she had you and I had nothing.

Even in my relationship you dictated my currents and I fell out of love with him for you again.

I’ve lost count of how many times we reconnected in that time. I felt guilty more often than not, and I would leave. Life turned me into someone I did not know. I grew to hate myself for being the chick on the side.

You told me she knew and that it was okay. The promise was that she wouldn’t leave because she was nice, and she loved you.

You said you were unhappy with her.

January 2015 came, and you sent a text I thought would finally end the cycle:

“She’s pregnant.”

I said congrats.

The courage to leave came to me.

I picked myself up and glued myself back together.

I left.

1 thought on “Memoirs of a Side Chick

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