LOVEHATE

31

The month between Shawn and I becoming a real couple and Christmas flew by.

I had final exams to study for and my group project to work on, but we spent each available moment together. I spent every possible night with him at his condo. Typically I'd go to class, go back to my apartment to study or meet with my project team, and then I'd head to Shawn's after. We'd eat take-out, talk about our day, watch a movie or something on TV, and then we'd go to bed fairly early. That didn't mean we slept. We were always up past midnight.

We'd decided that he'd come to Ottawa on the 29th and would stay through the New Year. It was a tough 9 days between when I went home after finals and when Shawn arrived. It was crazy how dependent on his company I'd become in such a short time. It turned out that Shawn Mendes was the perfect boyfriend.

For one thing, he had a knack for anticipating my needs or reading my moods. If I seemed stressed about school, he'd fix me a drink and would rub my feet while I vented about whatever was freaking me out. Having dealt with anxiety himself, he was good at talking me down and giving me strategies to cope. I felt he deserved a lot of credit for how well I did on my finals since he'd kept me saner than I usually was.

Additionally, on the day I got my period, I got to his condo and saw he'd stocked up on Twix bars and butter pecan ice cream. He had Advil sitting on the counter next to the candy and a heating pad plugged in near the sofa. Instead of fooling around that night, he'd given me a lower back massage. I'd woken up him up with a blow job before I went to class, because I wanted to show him how much I appreciated his sweetness. Plus, at least one of us should be getting off.

As wonderful as he was, I still sometimes found myself questioning our relationship.

Why was he with me?

Shawn Mendes was arguably one of the most attractive people in the music industry. He was tall and handsome in the most classically perfect way. His eyes were soulful, his lips were plump and pink, and his hair was always tousled in a way that made you think he'd just had someone rub her hands through it. Somehow his hair screamed 'sex!' Oh, and he had a cleft in his chin that often went unnoticed because his jawline was so razor sharp. He practically glowed, he was so beautiful.

And then there was me. An everyday average pretty college girl. You could find a girl of my caliber on any campus, in any mall, or on a busy city street.

I saw the comments on social media. There were the fans who were happy for him and were consistently lovely towards me. And of course there were the shitty fans who called me ugly or fake or any number of derogatory things.

Those two categories I expected to encounter when Shawn and I went public. It was the third category that filled me with doubt.

"I love her because she's a normal girl!"

"Sadie could be any one of us!"

"It says so much about Shawn that he's with Sadie!"

"We stan a man who cares about more than just dating a pretty face!"

These types of comments weren't meant to be hurtful, but they hurt more than those that called me hideous. The people who said truly terrible things said them out of jealousy. I could be a supermodel and they'd still pick apart my looks. But the people who made comments like the ones above were calling it as they saw it. I wasn't on Shawn's level.

What happened when Shawn met someone stunning and felt attracted to her? It was bound to happen. He was frequently flying off to various events. I'd see pics of him on social media mingling with the most beautiful women imaginable. Sometimes I'd start scrutinizing each photo. Was he looking at that actress a certain way? Sure he appeared to just be attentively listening to her, but did I see something in his eyes? Was his hand a bit lower than it should be on that singer's back? What was his body language saying?