Things ended almost as quickly as we started them.

I’m sure you’re surprised. I was as well.

Perfect Andrew. The man who wooed me with his horrible pick-up lines. The man that I catered to every time he came home from gigs plastered. The man who proposed a life of perfection, a life of pancakes in the morning and slumber parties with pink moscato and Domino’s pizza.

I was surprised to learn about Taylor. She and Andrew seem to be on again, off again, just like how it was when I was seeing him. When I moved in with him. When I was engaged to him.

The thing about being in a relationship with two people is that not only are you heartbroken, confused, and now homeless, but you also realize that you dated a fraud. What all was a lie? When did he ever tell the truth?

I never got a straight answer as to why he did it. The sad part is that I subconsciously knew that Andrew was too real to exist for me. He was perfect – and I was stupid to believe that perfection was real.

The roommate that moved out was Taylor. The cheap vanilla perfume was Taylor. When he was drunk, he couldn’t remember when he last told me or her that he loved us.

But I got the ring. Although I’m sure he returned that by now.

I moved out on Valentine’s Day. Luckily, my friend, Caitlyn, gave me her couch to sleep on until I found a place of my own, which eventually turned out to be right across the hall from her. It was nice to have someone there for me when my previous foundation had crumbled down the mountain, descending in a crescendo of complete and utter shit.

Andrew was over. That life, which ended up being a total fabricated lie, didn’t exist anymore. And maybe it never did to begin with.