"Malani, do you have to go this far? I've gone public with our relationship, posted about it online, what more do you want?" Amias's voice carried a note of frustration as he accused me of being unreasonable.

Mentioning social media made me want to laugh. After we started dating, Amias didn't want to announce our relationship. He claimed he didn’t want us to become the center of gossip. Yet, on Valentine's Day, he uploaded a picture of himself alone, captioned: "Single and loving it."

My roommates were outraged when they saw it and vowed to stand up for me. As I calmed them down, I texted Amias demanding an explanation. His reply was blunt: "I told you, going public is a hassle. If you keep pushing this, maybe we should just break up."

So, I backed down. I was naive back then, thinking that as long as we loved each other, everything else was unimportant. Whether public or private, did it really matter if our hearts were united? But then Amias started posting photos of himself with Lana, his childhood friend. They were wearing matching Victorian-style outfits and taking cozy travel photos in the Alps. Everyone thought they were a couple, and Amias never corrected them.

I finally hit my limit and confronted him for the first time. Amias, absorbed in his video game, let me yell and vent, unfazed, saying, "If you keep this up, we’re done."

That time, I was silent for a long while before I said, "Then let's break up."

After the breakup, I cried for what felt like an eternity, but I forced myself to attend classes with my head held high. I stopped bringing Amias lunch or gifts, and whenever we crossed paths, I acted as though he were a mere stranger.

Two weeks went by, and I found myself volunteering at the university's basketball tournament. Amias's team clinched first place, and as I quietly handed them water, I prepared to leave. Unexpectedly, Amias called out to me. He maneuvered around to stand right in front of me and bent down, grinning as he said, "What now? Still mad? I joined this tournament when I heard you’d be volunteering."

He showed me his phone; all posts about Lana had been wiped clean from his social media. Handing me a key, he mentioned I could come and go at his place as I pleased. That day, he stayed with me to clean up the basketball court. He didn’t let me lift a finger, running around, organizing all the equipment himself.

I watched in a daze as sweat glistened on his forehead, reminiscent of when he helped me with my luggage at the start of the semester. Coming from a quaint little town to this bustling city, I've endured countless judgmental stares. Yet, Amias never criticized my lack of familiarity or the state of my belongings.

So, my heart softened, and I agreed to reconcile with him.

When I went back to his place, the first sight was a sea of takeout boxes and trash. Looking back now, it wasn't that Amias suddenly realized he loved me. Rather, he suddenly figured out that hiring someone to clean would cost him. That’s why he came back for me, a few beads of sweat enough to soften my heart.

That's why on the first day of our reconciliation, he took me back to his place, where I spent an entire day cleaning before it was barely livable.

Looking back on it, I truly felt like I'd been in a trance.

How could I have ever believed that Amias Bennett loved me, especially after all the neglect and humiliation I endured?

I berated myself, calling myself a fool, but something wasn't right. Holding my phone, I cursed Amias out a dozen times, calling him an idiot. Then, I blocked him on every platform.

I stood at the entrance of my apartment complex for quite a while, long enough for passersby to give me curious looks.

My friend, Aylin, called, excitedly sharing about a new Victorian-style dress she had just bought, insisting that I start a video call to see it.

I told her I was outside and it wasn't convenient right then, suggesting we'd video chat later.

Aylin's lively voice softened, and after a pause, she gently asked, "Malani, what's wrong? You don't sound like you're in a good mood."

From the lounge to Amias's home, during this whole ordeal of venting and revenge, I had stayed surprisingly composed, even managing to joke with Amias. But when Aylin asked that question, I couldn't stop the lump from forming in my throat.

I wiped my face, my hand coming away wet with tears.

"It's nothing, just a sudden revelation," I said, looking up at the sky, trying to sound carefree. "Here's to being single! Here's to freedom!"

Amias, when the hurt I carried started to outweigh my initial feelings for you, I knew I would stop loving you. I would love myself more.