It wasn't a long Email. Three sentences. That was all it took. Three little sentences had me roped back into her net.  Hell, she probably could have done it with one.

Casey,
It doesn't have to be forever, but it needs to be for a little while,
at least. I don't know how you're feeling now, whether or not you
want me back, but you need to know that I've changed a lot and
I will change a lot. Nothing is forever.
-Emma

Ooh, she knew how to work me. It had been two weeks since we broke up but that made no difference to my heart. She knew which strings to play, and I didn't really mind. I loved her. I would wait for her. But it wasn't up to me. Emma got what Emma wanted. It had always worked like that between us, at least in my mind.

This time, Emma wanted me to see other people. The thing is, I didn't want to see anyone else. I wanted her. I wanted all of her and only her. She was literally the center of my world, my gravity. She kept me rooted, she was always on my mind.

'Maybe she's seeing someone,' I had often thought to myself. 'Maybe she left me because she found something better. Maybe she doesn't love me anymore. Maybe I wasn't good enough.' Thinking like that lead me to ask her if she was fucking anyone, seeing anyone.

"You don't want to play this game," she had said. "You won't like the result."

That was confirmation enough. She had fucked someone. In less than two weeks, she had already moved on. How could she? Did the last three years mean nothing?

"Not yet," she had said in reference to seeing someone. "But I can't stay single for very long." Of course she couldn't. She was a hot commodity.

Apparently, she was hotter than even I imagined. I found out from my brother later that night that she was in fact dating someone else. But not just someone. Her best friend: Charlie, a boy. Emma, who had proclaimed herself: "I'm a fag, I'm a dyke, I'm femme, I'm a lipstick lesbian," was dating a fucking boy. And not just a boy, but Charlie, boy who could. There was nothing Charlie seemed unable to do. Not to mention the fact that I knew him. With all the charisma of Casanova, he didn't need looks to help his cause.

I couldn't say I blamed her. I would probably have made the same decision had I willingly been single. But I wasn't. I still loved Emma with all my heart. I thought about her every second of the day. Mundane things reminded me of her. I couldn't eat because my heartache was taking a physical toll. I couldn't sleep because whenever I lay down in bed at night, thoughts of her flooded my mind. So I did the only thing I could think to do.

I put an end to it.