Experts say that when you're sexually or romantically attracted to someone, your pupils dilate. Oxytocin and dopamine, the "love hormones," affect pupil size.
Like drugs do. I didn't know this until I met her.
On our first date, we sat next to each other on wooden stools in a quiet corner of a popular bar in town. I ordered a Bee's Knees. She ordered the same.
We turned and faced each other as we sipped and talked. Our legs were touching, and our faces were so close that I could feel her breath when she laughed. Within minutes of interacting, I noticed her smooth chocolate brown eyes turning black. I felt like I was getting sucked into a black hole of desire where there was no turning back.
Thirty minutes into the date, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I needed to calm down. The electric surge of chemicals between us was just too intense. When I looked in the bathroom mirror, I noticed that my sparkly blue-green eyes had turned mostly black too. I started to fantasize that I was living in some vampire romance novel.
I took my phone out of my purse and googled, "Why are my and my date's eyes black?" "Your eyes dilate when you're in love with someone," Google replied.
I felt instantly drunk. I walked out of the bathroom with butterflies in my stomach and sat back down on the stool, inches from her.
We locked eyes again, and I gently put my hand on her thigh. For the next two hours, we talked about everything and anything. I watched her lips stretch and bend when she smiled and laughed. I studied the curve of her jaw and the petiteness of her frame. I noticed the adorable cowlick that made her hair stick up.
I was giddy. It felt like no one else was at that bar. It was only us. The live music next door sounded muffled, like the band was playing underwater. Time and space no longer existed.
It's been seven months since that night. And I was right. There was and is no turning back.
Until two weeks ago when everything went downhill. We had a trip planned to Paris where I thought to myself, this is it. This trip will set our love in stone and the rest will be history. She decided to uninvite me about 1 month before we were to leave. We slowly grew apart as I knew subconsciously that her mind was made up, that she was done trying to work through our issues.
She comes to pick up her things from my house a week before heading out for Paris. Everything hits me all at once. "Oh my god what have I done". I realized right then and there that I had made the greatest mistake of my life. That I had given up on fighting for the most wonderful girl that had ever walked my way.
I began obsessing, looking at her Instagram. Trying to piece things together and figure out where everything went wrong. I realize that her and her ex of 3 years started following each other again on Instagram. I look further, she's unarchived 100 photos with him. I begin to lose my mind.
I reach out to her, call her a cheater, only to push her away more. She begins to think I'm crazy. Fast forward to today, I see her and her ex in Paris together, enjoying the trip that we had planned.
In the span of 1 month, she went from loving me to being amicable with me to getting back with her ex and completely disposing of me. Lying about it. Never once saying sorry, but instead that "you're not my issue anymore" and that I should check myself into a psych ward for even feeling hurt by everything. Telling me she never thought we were meant to be. I was a terrible boyfriend. I was her rebound. And my hate for myself grew even more.
I'll see them grow happy, get engaged, have children. I can see their future clearly.
And all my future holds is the despair I will continue to endure as I see their life unfold. I've dated enough women to know this will forever be the best girl that has ever given me a chance. I am sick to my stomach. She loved me so much and I let it slip away.
I'll never forget when I first met her. It was as if my heart leaped out of my chest. We had an immediate connection. I remember coming back home to my friends in discord at the end of the night and saying to them, "This is the one". I don't know how things got away so fast. I was a soul just barely hanging on when I met her. She helped me through my addiction, she showed me what true love is, and I took her for granted.
I feel like a true psychopath now. But at least she made me feel less alone for a few good months.
I've grown tired of the struggle, of the rollercoaster, of the endless highs and lows, of waking up feeling good and then without warning being triggered back into suicidal despair. It's been a consistent cycle for so long that I see no reason to believe that it will suddenly change. I just can't get her out of my head. And I don't ever see a day that I will.
I've wavered back and forth about making this post, secretly hoping she will see it. I've decided to go ahead and do so because in a sense I'm thankful that she's helped me decide to finally end my miserable life.
Like drugs do. I didn't know this until I met her.
On our first date, we sat next to each other on wooden stools in a quiet corner of a popular bar in town. I ordered a Bee's Knees. She ordered the same.
We turned and faced each other as we sipped and talked. Our legs were touching, and our faces were so close that I could feel her breath when she laughed. Within minutes of interacting, I noticed her smooth chocolate brown eyes turning black. I felt like I was getting sucked into a black hole of desire where there was no turning back.
Thirty minutes into the date, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I needed to calm down. The electric surge of chemicals between us was just too intense. When I looked in the bathroom mirror, I noticed that my sparkly blue-green eyes had turned mostly black too. I started to fantasize that I was living in some vampire romance novel.
I took my phone out of my purse and googled, "Why are my and my date's eyes black?" "Your eyes dilate when you're in love with someone," Google replied.
I felt instantly drunk. I walked out of the bathroom with butterflies in my stomach and sat back down on the stool, inches from her.
We locked eyes again, and I gently put my hand on her thigh. For the next two hours, we talked about everything and anything. I watched her lips stretch and bend when she smiled and laughed. I studied the curve of her jaw and the petiteness of her frame. I noticed the adorable cowlick that made her hair stick up.
I was giddy. It felt like no one else was at that bar. It was only us. The live music next door sounded muffled, like the band was playing underwater. Time and space no longer existed.
It's been seven months since that night. And I was right. There was and is no turning back.
Until two weeks ago when everything went downhill. We had a trip planned to Paris where I thought to myself, this is it. This trip will set our love in stone and the rest will be history. She decided to uninvite me about 1 month before we were to leave. We slowly grew apart as I knew subconsciously that her mind was made up, that she was done trying to work through our issues.
She comes to pick up her things from my house a week before heading out for Paris. Everything hits me all at once. "Oh my god what have I done". I realized right then and there that I had made the greatest mistake of my life. That I had given up on fighting for the most wonderful girl that had ever walked my way.
I began obsessing, looking at her Instagram. Trying to piece things together and figure out where everything went wrong. I realize that her and her ex of 3 years started following each other again on Instagram. I look further, she's unarchived 100 photos with him. I begin to lose my mind.
I reach out to her, call her a cheater, only to push her away more. She begins to think I'm crazy. Fast forward to today, I see her and her ex in Paris together, enjoying the trip that we had planned.
In the span of 1 month, she went from loving me to being amicable with me to getting back with her ex and completely disposing of me. Lying about it. Never once saying sorry, but instead that "you're not my issue anymore" and that I should check myself into a psych ward for even feeling hurt by everything. Telling me she never thought we were meant to be. I was a terrible boyfriend. I was her rebound. And my hate for myself grew even more.
I'll see them grow happy, get engaged, have children. I can see their future clearly.
And all my future holds is the despair I will continue to endure as I see their life unfold. I've dated enough women to know this will forever be the best girl that has ever given me a chance. I am sick to my stomach. She loved me so much and I let it slip away.
I'll never forget when I first met her. It was as if my heart leaped out of my chest. We had an immediate connection. I remember coming back home to my friends in discord at the end of the night and saying to them, "This is the one". I don't know how things got away so fast. I was a soul just barely hanging on when I met her. She helped me through my addiction, she showed me what true love is, and I took her for granted.
I feel like a true psychopath now. But at least she made me feel less alone for a few good months.
I've grown tired of the struggle, of the rollercoaster, of the endless highs and lows, of waking up feeling good and then without warning being triggered back into suicidal despair. It's been a consistent cycle for so long that I see no reason to believe that it will suddenly change. I just can't get her out of my head. And I don't ever see a day that I will.
I've wavered back and forth about making this post, secretly hoping she will see it. I've decided to go ahead and do so because in a sense I'm thankful that she's helped me decide to finally end my miserable life.
