The girl next door

I hated love.

Everything about it made me sick-movies, songs, stories. I rolled my eyes every time someone talked about soulmates or butterflies in the stomach. Love was nothing but a scam to me, a trap designed to break you from the inside.

Oo sorry am ema Willmar, am 19 years old Nigerian, I live with my family and yes my family re pastors so u see is weird being a lesbian in a pastor's family, so for now am closed lesbian, my mom will kill me if she knows am in to girls so it is better she doesn't know for now. Back to my story.

At least, that's what I believed...

Until I met her.

She was everything. My dream girl. The kind of beauty that stopped time. The kind of presence that made you forget how to breathe. She wasn't just another girl-I became obsessed. Obsessed with her smile, her voice, her energy. She was the first girl I ever truly wanted. The first girl I imagined walking down the aisle toward.

Yeah, you heard me-married. I've always dreamed of marrying a girl, not a guy. The thought of a man putting a ring on my finger never gave me butterflies. But with her... it felt right. It felt real.

It started one lonely night-like many before. I was online, scrolling through social media, pretending I was okay. Smiling at memes, liking posts, typing "lol" when I hadn't laughed in days. Deep down, I was battling depression. The kind you hide behind filters and status updates. The kind you drown in silence.

Then... I saw her post.

A selfie.

She looked effortlessly beautiful. Not the type of beauty you fake with makeup or filters, but the kind that glows from within. She had this calm, confident aura. Like she knew who she was and didn't care what the world thought. The moment I saw her picture, something inside me clicked.

She was the one.

The one my heart had been aching for without even knowing it.

Without overthinking, I slid into her DMs. My hands trembled slightly, but my heart beat with wild excitement. I told myself not to expect too much-people ignore DMs all the time. But she replied. Not only that, we clicked. The way we talked, the way she understood my jokes, the way her words flowed like poetry-it was instant. Natural.

I didn't waste time.

I asked her out that same night.

I didn't want to play games. I didn't want to wait and wonder. I wanted her. And to my shock, she said yes. Just like that, she agreed to be my girlfriend. That night felt like magic. It was the first time in months that I fell asleep smiling, my chest full of peace instead of pain.

For two whole months, we were everything to each other. We texted constantly, shared secrets, laughed like we had known each other for years. She made me feel wanted. Seen. Alive. I'd fall asleep to her voice notes and wake up to her "good morning, baby" texts. It felt like a dream I didn't want to wake up from.

But then... everything changed.

About two weeks ago, I noticed something was off.

She stopped texting like before. Calls became rare. Conversations felt forced. When I asked if she was okay, she shrugged it off. Said she was "just busy." Said, "We don't have to talk all the time."

But I knew something was wrong.

I asked her directly if she still liked me. She said yes, she did. But then added, "We don't have to talk every time."

I didn't understand. We used to talk every time. Every minute. Every second. And now I was supposed to be okay with the silence?

I wasn't.

Slowly, I saw myself slipping back into that dark place. The place I thought she had saved me from. I cried late at night-something I hadn't done in a long time. But lately, the tears came back. Because all I wanted was my girlfriend to be... my girlfriend again. The one who made me feel alive. The one who used to care.

I opened up to my best friend. He's a straight guy, and probably the only person I trust completely. I told him everything-how I was feeling, how much I missed her, how confused and broken I was becoming.

His advice was simple: "Kill that obsession so you can be happy."

I stared at him like he had no idea what he was saying. "How can I? It's not easy," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked me dead in the eye and said, "Then you'll only get more depressed. And I don't want that for you."

And he was right.

But I won't lie...

I am depressed.

I smile in public and laugh in chats, but deep inside, I'm drowning. I keep hoping she'll come back, that this is just a phase. But what if it isn't? What if the girl who once made me feel like the happiest version of myself is now the one slowly tearing me apart?