Love Bombed

He told me I was the one on the third date. By the sixth, he'd picked our wedding song.

I'm not being dramatic. His name was Aiden. He sent flowers to my uni dorm. Wrote me a note that said "I've been waiting my whole life for you." Called me his "forever person" after two weeks.

My friends said it was intense. I said it was romantic. I'd never been chosen like that before.

For one month, I was the center of his universe. Good morning texts. Surprise Ubers. "You're perfect" every single day.

Then, one random Tuesday, it stopped. Not slowly. Like a light switch.

He was cold. Distracted. Annoyed by things he used to adore. I asked what changed, and he said, "You're not who I thought you were."

I wasn't different. I was just... human. I had bad days. I got tired. I had opinions.

He didn't fall out of love. He fell out of the fantasy.

I found out later, through a mutual friend, that he did this to another girl before me. Same flowers. Same note. Same "forever person."

I thought I was special. I was just the next one.

Now I flinch when someone's too nice to me. My new friend complimented my outfit last week and I went quiet for an hour, waiting for the catch.

He loved me loud for thirty days.

I'm still learning to trust quiet.