It started like a dream, the kind you never want to wake from. The kind of love that makes your skin tingle and your heart race in anticipation of what he might do next. He was intoxicating, worshiping you with every glance, every touch. You felt like a goddess, cherished in a way that made all other affections pale. Every word he whispered was like a prayer, and you were the deity at the center of his universe. His world, it seemed, revolved around you.

He made you feel powerful, as though you had him in the palm of your hand, bending to your every desire. The air between you crackled with electricity and the nights… ah, the nights. He treated your body like it was his altar, every kiss laced with devotion, every touch designed to leave you breathless and wanting more. You felt in control, wrapped in the luxury of his attention. His gaze followed you like a shadow, and you could feel his pulse quicken through your palms.

It was a perfect seduction.

But slowly, subtly at first, something shifted. His attentiveness, once as constant as the sun, began to waver. The way his eyes would drift when you spoke, the quiet sighs of irritation when you asked for his time. You brushed it off, telling yourself that love changes, it can’t always burn so hot, so intense. Little cracks fatigued.

He stopped holding you the same way. His arms, once strong and sure around you, felt looser, like he was holding back. He wasn’t giving you his all anymore, and you wonder if he ever had. You’d catch him staring off into the distance, his face unreadable, as if they’re secrets locked behind those eyes that once adored you. You questioned him, of course, but he was slippery now. His answers felt rehearsed and dismissive; leaving you unsettled in ways you couldn’t quite put into words.

Then came the lies. Small ones at first, easy to overlook about where he’d been, why he hadn’t called. But you knew. You felt it, deep in your bones, the way he was pulling away, retreating into a world that no longer centered you. The arguments became more frequent, the once-passionate exchanges now filled with venom and doubt. You fight for his attention, something you never thought you’d have to do.

And the control you once held so effortlessly slipped from your fingers. 

Was he faithful? The question gnawed at you, especially late at night when he came home later than usual, offering excuses that no longer sounded believable. You wondered if he’d found someone else. Someone who aroused the same fire in him you once had. And for the first time, you felt vulnerable, like the very thing that had once made you feel so powerful now made you weak.

“What if he could do better”? 

The thought twists in your mind, dark and invasive until it consumes you. Maybe he’d been pretending all along, feeding you the illusion of devotion until he no longer needed to. Or maybe it was you. Maybe… you weren’t enough anymore. The suspicion drove you mad, making you question everything you thought you knew about him, about yourself.

But as the days go, something even more unsettling dawned on you.

Perhaps he had never truly fulfilled you. The love you thought was perfect. The attention that made you feel invincible; had been a façade. The idea of being adored intoxicated you, of having power over him, but now you saw it for what it was: a fantasy. A carefully constructed dream that had unraveled, thread by thread, leaving you on the edge of a dark and lonely truth.

He wasn’t who you imagined him to be.

And as you stood there, staring into the abyss of your unraveling relationship, you realized something terrifying- maybe you never truly knew yourself either.