Shawn Mendes Imagines

My Heart Has a Mind of It's Own (Sad)

THESE IMAGINES ARE NOT MINE!!! I JUST EDITED THEM A LITTLE!!

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I spent months being angry. The first week I would scream into my pillow with all my might, tears pouring down my face. I cursed him, I cursed her, and I cursed God. Nothing can prepare you for the day the person you think is your soul mate crushes you entirely.

People used to say we looked perfect together, which always warmed my heart and made me feel like we were doing it right. Maybe I was too worried about our image. I always called him when he was touring, even if it was just to hear him on his voicemail. And when he came home it felt like I had my missing piece there again. Maybe I was too clingy. The day he asked me to move in with him I couldn't stop grinning. This was the man I wanted to spend my life with. Maybe I was too immature. When he sat me down on the couch in our apartment that day, with that seriously nervous look on his face, I half expected him to propose. I wanted him to propose.

He didn't propose. I was so naïve. Instead, he told me about her. About the girl, he had fallen in love with while on tour, the guitar tech for an opening band. Even as he was breaking my heart, he couldn't stop himself from smiling slightly while talking about her. When he saw my tears he replaced it with a solemn frown, saying that he "didn't know this would happen" and that he "had no control." I wanted to scream and fight, but I just sat there, numb and silently crying. Before I knew it he was packing an overnight bag, whispering apologies and goodbyes while heading out the door. He left the broken girl in that dark apartment. I sat there for hours and could only think of one thing. I would have said yes.

To put it simply, I was gutted. It felt as if someone had ripped my heart right out of my chest. I physically ached all over. What did I do wrong? Why didn't I notice? Why didn't I stop it? I can't explain the pain that came with the realization that throughout three years of dating, throughout fights, throughout kisses, throughout everything we had done or said, I was on a completely different page. I was in love, and he obviously wasn't. Maybe at some point, he was, but not when it mattered. I wanted forever and he wanted out.

But she wasn't a bitch, she was just better.

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