From the moment Clizel met Jaxen , it was as if the universe had orchestrated their meeting. He had that charm—the kind that made her heart flutter with every word he spoke, every glance he gave. To her, he was the one, the man who had come to sweep her off her feet and show her the world. She loved him deeply, completely, without hesitation. And for a while, she believed he loved her too.
But over time, something started to shift. The late-night texts became fewer, his promises more hollow. Yet, Clizel refused to see it. Love, to her, was supposed to be unconditional, all-encompassing. She clung to the idea that if she just gave more of herself—more time, more attention, more affection—he would come around. He’d realize how much she meant to him.
But Jaxen’s love, it seemed, was a game. His smiles were fleeting, his actions often contradictory. He’d pull her close one moment and push her away the next, leaving her chasing after a love that was only a shadow.
It wasn’t until Clizel reached her breaking point, crying alone in the quiet of her room, that something inside her began to change. The realization hit her like a wave: she had been so busy loving him that she forgot to love herself. In the end, it wasn’t Jaxen who would make her whole—it was herself.
And so, she found the strength to walk away. The love she once thought was everything, was no longer enough. She was no longer going to be a player in someone else’s game.
