Final Breakup: No. 100
Thor and I grew up together—we were the definition of childhood sweethearts. We'd promised to attend the same university, graduate, and marry right after senior year.
Everyone envied us. They said we were a perfect match, destined for a lifetime together. And I believed that too. I truly thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him.
Until the final semester of our senior year in high school, when a new transfer student named Lina joined our class.
At first, the two barely spoke. But as they grew familiar, their bond deepened in ways I could no longer ignore.
He started staying after school to tutor her, bringing her breakfast every morning. When she was upset, he'd take her for a drive along the coast. If she craved Italian steak, he'd have fresh cuts flown in. Even during her period, he'd quietly prepare everything she needed.
I was furious. I confronted him, argued with him, and even threatened to break up.
The first time I said it, he thought I was joking and coaxed me out of my anger. The second time, he dismissed it as another tantrum and tried different ways to please me. The third time, he broke down—standing outside my house in the pouring rain all night, half kneeling before me, begging for forgiveness.
Again and again, I tried to leave, and every time, he refused to let me go. Yet with each reconciliation, something in him shifted. He started taking me for granted, assuming I would always come back.
His patience wore thin. His apologies turned perfunctory. Even when he came to make peace, there was no sincerity left in his voice.
So I said it for the hundredth time, and that was the last. That was the moment I finally gave up on him.