The Way I Loved You

                                    

                                          
The Way I Loved You
Sam and Taylor had always seemed like the quintessential couple—solid, dependable, and perfectly at ease with each other. To their friends and family, their relationship was enviable. Sam was everything Taylor had once dreamed of in a partner. She was sensible, respectful, and incredibly attentive. She always knew the right things to say to make Taylor feel cherished, and it was like Taylor couldn't ask for anything better. When she opened the door for Taylor and said, "You look beautiful tonight," Taylor felt perfectly fine, but there was something else simmering beneath the surface.
On a crisp evening, Sam drove them to a charming restaurant for dinner. The ambience was delightful, and Sam's company was pleasant. They shared easy conversation and laughter, with Sam discussing business with Taylor's father and engaging in respectful nods with her mother. She was close to Taylor's family and had a knack for making Taylor feel special in the most ordinary ways. She was charming and endearing, and Taylor was comfortable. Yet, as the evening progressed, Taylor couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.
The memories of her previous relationship with Y/N haunted her. She remembered a time when her love life was a whirlwind of intense emotions. It had been a wild, chaotic ride: screaming, fighting, and kissing in the rain at 2 a.m. It had been a love that was all-consuming, where arguments were as passionate as the make-ups that followed. She had been so in love that it drove her to act irrationally, and the rush of those emotions was something she missed deeply.
After dinner, as Sam drove her home, Taylor's thoughts drifted back to those intense, tumultuous moments. She had loved fiercely and felt alive in a way that was both exhilarating and exhausting. She missed that thrill, the roller-coaster kind of rush that made her heart race and left her breathless.
Sam, ever perceptive, noticed Taylor's distracted demeanour. "Is something on your mind?" she asked, glancing over at her with concern.
Taylor forced a smile. "No, it's nothing. Just a lot on my mind, I guess."
Sam parked the car outside Taylor's apartment and walked her to the door. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" she said softly.
Taylor nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of her unspoken thoughts. "I know, Sam. I appreciate it."
She couldn't see the smile Taylor was faking and her heart wasn't breaking because Taylor was feeling anything at all. Her ex had been wild, crazy, and just so frustrating and intoxicating, and now she missed it, she missed Y/N.
That night, as Taylor lay in bed, she couldn't escape the stark contrast between her current relationship and her previous one. Sam was everything she had thought she wanted—a perfect gentleman who respected her space and never made her wait. And she called exactly when she said she would. But Taylor couldn't deny that she missed the passion and chaos of her past love. The more she tried to reconcile her feelings, the more frustrated she became.
The following day, Sam confronted Taylor about her change in demeanour. She had noticed Taylor's disconnection and was determined to understand what was wrong. "Taylor, we need to talk," she said as they sat in Taylor's living room. Her voice was calm, but there was an edge of concern in her eyes.
Taylor sighed, feeling the tension build. "What's there to talk about, Sam? Everything's fine."
"No, it's not," Sam said firmly. "You've been distant lately. I need to know what's going on."
Taylor felt a rush of emotions. She had been trying to suppress her feelings, but they came pouring out in a wave of frustration. "I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain," she said, her voice rising. "When it was 2 a.m., and I was cursing her name! When I was so in love that I acted insane, and that's the way I love! I don't feel that with you, Sam. I'm not saying you're not good enough; it's just that I miss the rush, the intensity. I don't feel anything at all."
Sam was taken aback, her expression shifting from anger to confusion. "What are you talking about, Taylor?"
"I need that roller-coaster rush," she continued, her voice rising. "I need to feel everything—breaking down and coming undone. That's what I miss! I never knew I could feel so much before, and it's not something you can give me."
Sam's face fell, her eyes wide with shock. "So what you're saying is you're not happy with us? After all I've done for you, for us, you're just going to throw it away for some ex of yours? Is that what you're saying, Taylor?"
"I don't know what I'm saying," Taylor snapped. "I just know that something is missing. I feel like I'm faking a smile, and my heart isn't breaking because it's not even there!"
Sam was silent for a moment, processing her words. "I thought we were building something real," she said quietly. "I thought we had something special. I love you, Taylor."
Taylor's face turned pale as she processed Sam's words. The heated argument reached a climax as Taylor, with tears streaming down her face, grabbed her coat and walked toward the door. "I can't keep pretending," she said quietly, her voice breaking. "I need something different."
"We do have something special," Taylor said, her voice trembling. "But it's not the kind of special that makes my heart race. It's the kind that makes me numb. I need more than this comfort."
Sam stood up, her face a mixture of hurt and anger. "So what do you want, Taylor? What do you need from me?"
Taylor stood as well, feeling tears well up in her eyes. "I don't know, Sam. I just know that I need to figure this out on my own. We should break up."
Sam's shoulders slumped, and she nodded. "I understand. Maybe it's time for us to take a break."
Taylor nodded, feeling a sense of relief mixed with sadness. "I think that's best. I'm sorry."
As Sam walked out the door, Taylor felt a strange sense of freedom. The weight of her conflicting emotions had been lifted, and she knew she needed to be true to herself. She watched her leave, feeling both a pang of sadness and a sense of liberation.
She decided after Sam left to get some fresh air, so Taylor walked through the quiet streets, her mind racing. It was as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She realized that she needed to rekindle the intensity and passion she once had, something she had lost in her relationship with Sam.
The following weekend, Taylor decided to reach out to her former flame—the one who had always ignited that wild, passionate side of her.
The next morning, as Taylor walked through the park to clear her head, she was surprised to see a familiar face—her ex. They hadn't spoken since their messy breakup, but seeing her now stirred up a flurry of unresolved feelings.
"Taylor?" her ex called, her voice hesitant. "It's been a while."
Taylor looked at her, her heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. "Her. What are you doing here?"
"I was just passing through," she said, taking a tentative step closer. "I heard you were around and thought I'd see how you're doing."
Taylor hesitated, then nodded. "I'm doing okay. Just working through some things."
They agreed to meet for dinner at their old favourite spot, a lively café that had once been the backdrop for many of their adventures.
As her Y/N arrived, Taylor felt a rush of familiarity. They spent the evening reminiscing about their past, laughing, and enjoying each other's company. The connection between them felt immediate and intense, reminding her of the way she used to love. They laughed and teased each other, the spark of their old romance reigniting.
As the night ended, Y/N leaned in and kissed Taylor with a fervour that left her breathless. It was passionate, wild, and everything she had been missing. The kiss was everything she had craved, a stark contrast to the steady comfort she had with Sam.
Walking home, Taylor felt a newfound sense of exhilaration. She didn't need to search for her destiny or define her future. She had rediscovered the intensity of her emotions and the excitement of true passion. As she closed the door to her apartment, she whispered to herself, "This is the way I love."
The thrill of the night, the intensity of her emotions, and the raw connection she had felt with her ex made her realize that sometimes, what she needed was not the calm steadiness of a perfect relationship but the vibrant rush of a love that made her feel truly alive.