Two weeks. Fourteen sun-drenched and perfect days. It felt real. It all felt so real. But it wasn’t, and it isn’t. He never held me like that, and I’m in love with a lie, the beautiful, cruel trick of a damaged brain. I had everything, and now I have nothing. Less than nothing, because it was never real. There was no great love story, no epic, timeless romance between me and Blair. There’s only me, shattered and alone and clutching these fragments of a life I never lived and a love I never had. He’s gone, and he was never mine to lose.
