We'd been married for five years, and he'd forgotten my birthday four times.
On my birthday, he bought another woman a necklace worth 68,000 yuan. I bought myself a cake for 128 yuan.
“You left me to deal with everything at home? Must be nice for you!”
He pointed at me and shouted in a video call. I'd just finished a night shift, and I had to stop twice to rest on the 300-meter walk home.
The next day, he called me. “When did I yell at you last night?”
He wasn't pretending. He genuinely didn't think it counted as yelling.
I'd loved him for seven years.
The day we reunited after living in different cities, his eyes were fixed on me. When he tidied my hair, his fingertips brushed my ear, and I melted.
I thought we'd be together forever.
Later, I saw him smile at someone else just like that.
It wasn't that he didn't love me. He cared deeply when he cared, but when he didn't, he couldn't even see that I was hurting.
I tried to warm him for five years, but he stayed cold.
So I gave up.
The day I left, I took one suitcase and never looked back.
He thought I'd come back after a couple of days of sulking.
What he got instead was a divorce agreement.
Later, he went mad. He searched everywhere for me, standing all night at the station where we had reunited.
But he didn't know that 300 kilometers away, I'd fixed the water heater all by myself.
The water was warm.
And so was my heart.
Not because of him.
