Lost in Translation

..And maybe we got lost in translation , Maybe I asked for too much , But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up , Running scared, I was there , I remember it all too well , And you call me up again just to break me like a promise , So casually cruel in the name of being honest , I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here , 'Cause I remember it all, all, all , Too well..

Your name popped up on the screen for what felt like the billionth time today; that silly selfie we took together at your parents old cabin upstate from that first weekend getaway we shared was still your saved pic on my phone. Remember that night? It was the first getaway we ever took together; you packed up the car while I was at work.. the first words out of your mouth when you came to pick me up were even "Let's go for a drive tonight". Excited because nobody has ever done anything like this for me, I stupidly accepted. I was so damn excited. I truly believed like I was at the top of the world with you standing down below shouting "that's my girl!".

That little drive. That little drive was when I first realized that you were the one for me. I fell. Hard. I really did believe that you felt the exact same about me. Of course I would. You couldn't even keep your eyes off me the entire drive up, let alone keep yourself focused on the road ahead of you. Not to mention how you just packed me into a car and drove out to that little cabin in the woods your parents' had just for the hell of it. I seriously felt as if I was in a competition among every other girl and just won the big first place prize for the greatest boyfriend.

I remember spending that entire car ride expecting you to say it. I kept giving you little clues that I was ready to hear you finally say it; I even tried to drop the three little words myself without actually saying those three little words. I don't know about you but I felt like this would've been the perfect time to mention how this was love; you never said what it was. Instead, you gushed about how excited you were for tonight.. about how you were waiting for this night to come since the first day you met me. Almost as if you were trying to hype me up; stupid me, I actually thought you were just that excited to show me your parents' cabin.

The cabin was small. I mean, what else would I had expected? You got out of the car and I actually expected you to open the door for me. You didn't. Of course you wouldn't. Why would you? I felt off the second I walked out of that car. At the time, I couldn't figure out exactly why.. I just felt as if something wasn't right with what was happening. I followed you into the cabin, hanging my scarf over the staircase before following you up; that, was the mistake I've made.

Maybe we got lost in translation. Maybe I asked you for too much. Maybe this thing between us was a masterpiece until you tore it all up. I remember it, every single second of it, I remember it; the following you up the stairs as you grabbed ahold of my hand and nearly pulled me up. A big smile had been plastered across your face, yet I still remained clueless. It wasn't until I saw you enter the bedroom that I realized the whole point of this trip. This wasn't love. No wonder you never told me what it was on the drive up; it wasn't that. It was something else.

"We should go back downstairs," I tried to tell you but you continued to pull me towards the bed, that damn smile still plastered across your smile. There was definitely no talking you out of this. You had already made up your mind, no matter the cost or who it could hurt.

"We can go back down in a few minutes," You finally spoke to me.

"I don't think this is a good idea," I remember telling you. You didn't care. You shoved me onto the bed and began to run your fingertips under my shirt before sliding them down to my waist.

"Please," I pleaded out, "We can just go back downstairs. I won't tell anyone about what happened here."

He didn't listen. Literally. No matter how much I begged him, it was almost as if I wasn't actually in the room with him. I really thought he cared about me. I really believed that I had managed to find myself the perfect guy. I closed my eyes; praying for all this to be over soon.

**

It's been two months since that day. Two months since you took something from me that I could never get back. Two months, yet time won't pass. I'm paralyzed by the pain of that day, almost as if it was haunting me to this very day. Why did you do that? Who was I to you? I really wish I could be my old self again, from before you took me to that cabin that day, but I'm still trying to find it yet again.

Two months gone by and you still call me up on the phone. You've told all your friends how I used you and took advantage of your "pure, good heart". I promised you I wouldn't say a damn thing about that day, yet you still managed to break me like a promise; so casually cruel in the name of being honest.

**

Another month gone by and you suddenly stopped calling. Although those phone calls hurt me every time my phone lit up, the day you stopped calling was still a type of heartbreak I never thought I'd go through. You no longer calling meant you officially just left me in the dust. After all you put me through, I was just a faded memory to you. You probably were still telling your friends about how much I've "ruined" you, but I was still a faded memory in the back of your mind.

I received a package during this third month; you had mailed back all the things I left in your possession. Besides one. The scarf I had left on the staircase of your parents' cabin from that day. You gave me back everything but that scarf from that very day. I knew why. Of course I knew why. It was a prize. That stupid, old scarf reminded you of innocence, reminded you of me. You may have told all your friends about how much of a mess I was and about how much I broke you because you "gave me your all, but I just ghosted you and left you in the dust", but you can't get rid of that old scarf. Of course you wouldn't be able to get rid of that scarf. Do your friends even know you still have it? Do they know that you probably hold onto it and wear it, remembering the day that you took everything from me? Obviously you can't get rid of it. It reminds you of innocence. It reminds you of me. Hell, it probably still smells just like me. You can't take it out of your possession, because you remember it, just like me. I don't blame you. What we had was rare. I was there too. Why would you want to get rid of the item that reminded you of what you accomplished that night?

**

What did you really think of me? Who was I, really, to you? Did you really believe that I was some helpless angel who needed the help of you?

Three months. It's been three months and I'm still hiding out in the bathroom, weeping, praying for all this pain to just fade away the way I did for you. Some girl coming up to me, asking me what happened, you. That's what happened. You. I gave you my all, and you repaid me with a memory I can never get out of my mind.

I should've known what this was. You never even said what we had was love. You never did. Never. Stupid me. Stupid, stupid me. Holding your hand as we walked down the street together.. throwing my arms around you as I took in your embrace.. I truly felt like I had found my soulmate. I truly did feel like I found the person who I was about to spend the rest of my life with. I thought I would be able to tell my child about the day her father and I met. I never thought I had to tell my child about how her father broke her mother; I never thought I would have to tell my child that the worst day of my life just happened to also be the very day she was conceived.

So congratulations, Jeff.

You win.