The Inevitable End of Our Love Described in John Mellencamp Lyrics.
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At the time, you were everything I ever wanted.
The whole purpose of those teenage years: to set yourself up for that dream life. Mine included a soulmate.
The lover who started out as my high school sweetheart. The songs on the radio convinced me that this was where I was meant to be. I believed it was love in the truest form. That our love story read like a Nick Sparks novel.
I was wrong. Painfully so.
The problem was that it took me until long after you left me sobbing on the floor to realize that we read more like a Stephen King novel. We were doomed from the start. Rose-tinted glasses shielded our eyes from the obvious differences. Or maybe that was just me.
I failed to see how controlling you were.
How the imprisonment you were feeling at home left you hungry for a personal slave. How you needed someone to do exactly as you said, or else you would be gone. You wanted someone to be privatized for your eyes alone. Someone who agreed with every single one of your moronic thoughts. Someone who would place you so high up on a pedestal that she could no longer reach.
I never saw all of this. I only saw my high school sweetheart. The sweet boy who would turn into an established man. The man whom I would call my husband one day. I believed in you so strongly that I ignored the pessimistic reminders in favor of an optimistic future with you.
My friendships disappeared; you never liked any of them. I picked out clothing based on the fact that I could only be sexy for you and no one else. Not even myself. My future plans were to head towards a mediocre life, so that we could live simply and happily together (because God forbid I attempt something as risky as becoming a full-time writer).
And I told myself, as I fell deeper and deeper into darkness, that once we left high school, you were going to lift me back into the light by placing a ring on my finger.
You broke me. The weight of your selfishness shattered my heart into a million tiny pieces. It was like I couldn’t breathe. You were supposed to be the one. You had drilled it into my mind from the start. Now you were gone.
You told me I was the reason. I had changed. I was not loyal and caring enough to deserve you. You tried taping signs onto my head as reminders that I was a villain and you had been hurt by me. I lost myself in an attempt to prove to you that I was meant to be your heroine.
Then the college years came, and it was as if my newfound education was already making me wiser. I saw the truth.
I was not the enemy. You were a monster.
You disguised yourself as a loving boyfriend, one described in all the songs. But beneath your warm touch and soft lips lay cold scales and sharp claws. And you would have held me prisoner in your dark cave, had you not become afraid of me.
You feared my beauty. You feared my intelligence. You feared my voice. You knew I was strong, that I had the strength of a warrior princess. You needed me to be a damsel in distress, so that you could feel more like a knight in shining armor instead of a beast.
I would have given us a life fit for a king and queen, but you feared equality. For you, love was found in power, but love is meant to be found in respect. You never respected me. You wanted to cradle me, like a careless infant. I just wanted to walk side by side, hand in hand.
How was my youthful mind supposed to know that fairy tales are utter fiction? That some romances are only temporary? All I wanted was that vision of love, and I thought I had it.
The more time I spent alone, the more I realized who I was meant to be, what I was meant to do with my life. I was so caught up in love songs on the radio that I ignored the other stories I was dying to live and scream at the top of my lungs.
You almost kept me from realizing my dreams. You made me hate myself. You made me believe I was worthless because our love couldn’t be described in John Mellencamp lyrics anymore.
I know better now. I know who I am. I know that one day I will meet someone who loves me truly. Someone who knows how to properly love.
That’s the thing about young love: we’re too naive. We think everything will last forever.
Sometimes the end is inevitable, but having your love story come to an end might be the best thing that will ever happen to you.
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Karyn Little is a young writer with an overactive imagination. She spent years as a scholar before realizing she could no longer ignore the right side of her brain. A graduate of Humber College’s Creative Writing and Creative Book Publishing programs, she currently works as the Content Specialist for Wattpad’s chat fiction app, Tap by Wattpad. She hopes to live a life full of writing, whether it is telling her own stories or helping others tell theirs. She is a proud feminist who tries her best to find the good in everyone. Her passion lies in advocating for mental health issues. She believes in spreading love and hope through the power of words, and hopes that everyone will see more of her work soon. You can find her on her Twitter, Instagram, YouTube and Wattpad.
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