None of it is real. None of it is true.
But even to my eyes, it all looks very real.
It also all looks very staged.
Under the“You May Also Be Interested In”section of this website, I see a very familiar face smiling back at me. After clicking on the link, I think I may be sick.
Luke.
And Syndi.
There are photos of their intimate dinners over candlelight, obviously in a hotel lobby. They’re holding hands, smiling at each other, and leaning in close to each other. More pictures show them walking hand in hand down the Strip in Vegas. One caption shows that it was taken during Valentine’s week—when he told me I couldn’t come out there because Joe and Mack had something special planned for him.
Now I know it wasn’t Joe and Mack who made plans for him at all. He was with Syndi. The only explanation I can think of is he used that picture of Travis and me as an excuse to end it between us and not look like the bad guy here. He may even know that the picture isn’t what it’s made to look like, but it doesn’t matter either way now.
Closing my laptop and forcing myself out of the bed, I take a long, hot shower and take time for yet another nervous breakdown. Staring at my engagement ring, the tears flow freely along with the water over my face. My hands shake uncontrollably as I start to remove it from my left ring finger.
The left ring finger was originally chosen for wedding bands because it was believed to be the only one with a vein that runs directly to the heart. Scientists now say that isn’t true, even though many people still choose to believe it is. As I slide the promise of eternal love off my finger, I’m inclined to believe the scientists are wrong because I’m certain I just ripped my heart out all over again.
It takes me an extraordinarily long time to shower, dry my hair, and get dressed. My will to go on is barely hanging on by a thread. Crouched down in the tiny bathroom, the wails of my pain echo off the walls. Luke has left me alone again. The love we shared has been shattered by rumors and innuendo. The life we’ve built together has been ripped from my hands and left gaping wounds in my heart. How am I supposed to go onstage and sing these love songs now? My every thought will be of Luke, what we had, and what we’ve lost.
We’ve already been through the gauntlet of relationship issues, and I really believed we’d come out on the better end of everything. Our love had been put through the fire and came out stronger—until someone else’s lie destroyed it again. Part of me wants to call him, beg him to listen to me again, and explain what really happened. I want to tell him what I’ve been thinking about doing and why.
Another part of me wants to call him and tell him to go straight to hell without passing go and collecting a dime first. I want to rail at him for doing this to me again, for not being a man and standing behind me, and for not believing me, regardless of what the circumstances look like. If he loved me, if he believed in my love, he would’ve given me the benefit of the doubt.
Again, I’m left like the fool, pining after him when he clearly doesn’t even want me.
Picking up my phone, I decide on a different course of action.
“Hello?” Brandon answers.
“Brandon, it’s Andi,” I say with a watery voice.
“Andi, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” he asks, concern lacing his voice.
I give him the rundown of my conversation with Luke. “How can he do this to me again, Brandon?”
“I’m sorry, Andi. I know this is tough, but you also know how Luke is. He makes rash decisions and later regrets them. Sometimes it just takes a while to get it through that thick head of his that he’s wrong. I’ll talk to him if you want me to.”
Do I? Do I want to pursue this again? I’m so torn. I’m so hurt. I’m so mad. There are too many overwhelming feelings that swing wildly from one end of the spectrum to the other.
“No, Brandon, don’t bother. I think I just needed to talk it through with someone who understands where we’ve been. As much as it kills me, I just don’t have it in me to go through this again. I need to learn to say when enough is enough.”
We talk for a few more minutes about how everything came down. Brandon loves Luke, but I can tell he’s mad at him over this. He also has some doubts about what’s really going on between Travis and me, which I understand. I don’t expect him to choose sides or anything.
“Brandon, thank you for everything. You’re a wonderful brother, and I love you for being there for Luke and for me. Take care of yourself,” I say before we hang up. Losing Luke’s family is almost as hard as losing Luke. They’ve all become so intertwined in my life that it’s like losing my own family all over again.
Sound Bar and Fireflies have interviews at the radio station today, and I had originally planned on tagging along. I’ve changed my mind now, though. It’ll take every ounce of energy I have just to perform tonight. I don’t want to pretend I’m okay any longer than I absolutely have to.
I send a text to Travis and Katelyn to tell them to go on without me. Within minutes, there’s a knock at my bedroom door. When I open it, Travis immediately knows something is terribly wrong and wraps his arms around me in a warm bear hug. It’s really a good thing that I haven’t put my makeup on yet because I can’t stop the tears that start immediately.
Travis walks me backward until we reach the bed, and he gently pushes me until I sit down. He sits beside me and scoots us both up against the headboard. Then he pulls me back into his arms and just holds me while reassuringly rubbing my back. When I finally have no more tears left to cry, I feel completely drained of everything.
Drained of feelings.
Drained of caring.
Drained of trying.
