And as her mother aged and grew weaker, she realized there was nothing left to hold on to in this world. So, when her college senior proposed, she accepted, though she realized she could never love him—or anyone—again.She drowned herself in alcohol, stayed out late, and became adept at playing the game of life, floating between different men.She enjoyed that lifestyle.When people chased after her, she felt invincible.
Those so-called “guy friends” of hers—they were really her prey. Or rather, they used each other for fleeting comfort.Marriage wasn’t something she wanted.But her mother—who had blamed her for everything and abused her endlessly—was dying of cancer. Her mother’s dying wish was to see her married and settled.She hated her parents, but she couldn’t sever the bond of family or deny her mother’s wish. So, she asked her boyfriend to marry her.
He loved her deeply and agreed, moved by her request.But she still wanted one last wild fling before the wedding.And so, in the three months leading up to the wedding, she slept with all her “friends,” in hotels or in the very house her fiancé had prepared for their new life together.On the bed, the vanity, the bathroom, the living room—everywhere.And most importantly, the one she truly loved was also in that house.
“I know what I’m doing will hurt my future husband, but I can’t stop myself. I just want to say goodbye to my youth and love.”“I may have had countless past relationships and thirteen guy friends, but I take each one seriously.”Look at that—how eloquently she dressed up her cheating as something noble and meaningful.Of course, it wouldn’t have mattered to me if the unlucky fiancé wasn’t… me.
