Warning Myself Not to Marry Him
Language: en
On Thanksgiving night, I stumbled upon a livestream that seemed to defy time. It was me, from five years ago. "Look, everyone! He just proposed!" She was beaming, radiating the dizzying happiness of Conrad’s grand, romantic gesture. I just watched quietly, a faint, tired smile resting on my lips. Then, my phone buzzed. It was a video from Conrad. The screen filled with raw, intimate heat. Heavy, breathless gasps echoed from the speakers as he pressed his new girl against a wall, kissing her with a desperate, performative hunger. I closed the video with practiced numbness and returned to…