“Why are men such dickheads?”

My feet faltered as I ran toward my car. I held back the tears threatening to fall once more. And as I sped away, the gravel dust flying airborne behind me was my final goodbye. I could see the gate was open as I picked up speed, needing to get as far away from him as I possibly could.

The pain sliced through me, leaving only my crippled soul in its wake. It’s wasn’t that I loved him; it was that I had hoped to. I had opened my heart and let him in, just as I’d done with Ben, only to find another emotionally unavailable man. What was wrong with me? Maybe I should have been asking what was wrong with them?

Passing the exit for work, I knew I had to get in touch with the office. I was already late.

“Janet, this is Jordan. Please inform Ben I won’t be in today. I’m not feeling well.”

“Of course. Are you all right?”

No.

“Yes, thank you.”

I was going to have a complete breakdown here, on the I-45. The cars crawling through the city fueled my frustration. My phone buzzed, and I watched as Ben’s name lit up my screen. I wasn’t ready for him, for anyone, so I swiped the ignore button.

All I wanted was to hide myself from the world, tucked safely under my covers, disappearing from life and its broken promises. The more I gave in to the moment, the harder the pain throbbed in my heart.

Lost in a fog, I finally reached the exit leading me home, and within minutes, I spilled out of my car and dragged myself to the front door. Once inside, a huge sigh escaped me. I was finally free to let the feelings tumble and churn as I undressed and slipped into my nightgown.

My mind was spinning hard, my pulse spiking to a deadly fast pace. I don’t know why I bother.

I sat on the side of my bed and cried. Prepped with the usual broken heart prescription. Within reach was a small container of Haagen-Dazs chocolate chip and cookie dough ice cream, a bottle of Jack, and a box of tissues. My phone was charging, powered off.

I opened the bottle and took my first swig, cringing as the acid burned down my throat. But it also caused a warm flow as it traveled through me. I followed this with a spoonful of ice cream. I repeated the process several times, as the bitterness fueled me on and the tears streamed down my face.

I was growing weary of ever trying again. What was the point? I was done wanting to care, done searching for love. It had taken its toll on me. The impact was too high of a price to pay when it only ended in heartache.

Maybe he was like a predator. He definitely pushed all the right buttons. What did I really know about him, anyway? I had no reason to trust him, even though my instincts had told me to.

So, that was fucked up as well.

God, I had been such a fool, and he had been so convincing. I had handed over my heart willingly. I hadn’t expected a thing, distracted by his shrewd lies that lured me in slowly. Where I had seen tenderness, he was probably only calculating his next move.

And where the hell was my woman’s intuition, that gut feeling, or sixth sense warning me danger ahead? I hadn’t had one forewarning clue that he was anything but genuine.

Of course, now I knew why he was only capable of a short-lived relationship. No, it was actually much worse. It seemed as if he was only capable of a casual hookup.

I felt like a complete idiot. He had been charming, and I had fallen right into his trap. I thought of the unapologetic ways he moved through life, knowing right from wrong, white from black, yet always living in the gray. And maybe that had been the clue I’d missed. He constantly walked on the edge of right and wrong. Who did that?

That was the problem with men. One night, one magical, fucked-up night. So, we didn’t have sex, we held each other, we were intimately growing towards something bigger. I would have got there at some point. The entire encounter reeked of a skirt-chaser Don Juan. And now he was ready to move on to the next intended victim.

Betrayal had changed me. It was like poison to the soul, causing the next potential relationship to live with the scars caused by his prior treachery.

I’d never forget the impact it had on me. Anger tore across my soul, and I was unable to move my body, tensing as I processed it all. I took another pull from the amber bottle, slowly consuming the toxic venom. I wrapped my arms around myself and shut my eyes as I rode the tide out. I was beginning to feel the effects, dizzy and light-headed as the bitterness lingered in my mouth.

I lay on top of the covers. As the ceiling started to spin, I noticed a sea of lights in so many bright colors. They were so pretty. As sleep called for me, I drifted off into a welcoming sleep.

I woke to the annoying sound of a lawn mower, followed by the hum of a blower. Confused momentarily as to why I was in bed, I instantly catapulted back to the memory of yesterday. Then I grew irritated with myself. I was pathetic.

Slowly shifting to something else entirely, I brought my attention back to Ben. He had lost interest as well, although the pain I felt over him still lingered to this very day.

I was reminded of my preoccupation with a man who offered nothing but a platonic friendship. There was a time when I had believed it could be more, but it would never be, why couldn’t I accept that?

Ben had always been the king of mind games, playing catch and release with my affections. And like a silly schoolgirl crush, I had jumped at the opportunity whenever he got close. He was so handsome, and our chemistry was off the charts. He became my constant distraction. But I couldn’t forget the ten years of longing for someone who couldn’t love me back.

I shouldn’t have been thinking about Ben. I had tried to let him go, only to find heartache in its place. And he warned me to stay away from Steel. I had refused to hear his words, and the fact he was right only made matters worse.

I seem to be attracted to men who didn’t have time for relationships but were experts at playing games.

Two men, and both had broken my heart. And yet I was still desperately wanted to understand, searching for answers that will never come. My inner monologue was laced with conflicting torment. My inability to turn off emotions proved to be much harder than I would have ever thought.

Betrayal was like a dagger to the heart. A cocktail of adrenaline and pain. How could I have been such a fool?

I’d known others like Steel, a one-night serial dater at best. The difference being that I had usually known it before hand and had no illusions that this was anything more than just a casual physical encounter.

Would it take an eternity to recover? Had I ever fully mended my heart when Ben pushed me away? Yet, comparing the two didn’t seem fair; they were both entirely different in their own ways. The pain, however, felt the same.

I had been turned on by Steel’s masculine beauty, mixed with the threatening undertone of danger. His rugged virility. He moved like a panther, silently stalking his prey. A sinister appeal, it had totally lured me in.

The enormity of it all was just too much. I didn’t have experience in relationships, and I had never considered for a single moment that he’d end things the way he did.

I wasn’t one to give up so easily. I believed I was a fighter, but love had walked out of my life and left me abandoned. Just once, I would’ve liked to step into love, and be loved in return.