You’re goals. You’re perfect for each other. You guys are so cute.
That was all anyone ever said about our relationship.
I don’t understand how no one saw the truth, saw through his facade.
We lived together for two years. The house was made of bricks, but sometimes I wish the walls were made of glass, so people could see through it. And find out what really happened behind closed doors.
We weren’t cute. We weren’t goals. We weren’t perfect.
Our outings became less and less frequent before they stopped happening altogether.