Karin was wealthy. Her dad, Ken, was a heart surgeon at the Goldwick Medical Center, and her mom, Kim, was an accountant for Farmer's and Merchants Bank.
This meant lots of certain perks and advantages for me. They gave her a weekly allowance of twenty-five hundred dollars. So, with that, she'd usually buy me new clothes, new shoes, new jewelry. Karin paid for trips to faraway getaway spots. She purchased me numerous trinkets and toys—an iPhone X, a PlayStation 4, Fortnite, Madden, and 2K19, a platinum grill, and so much more.
So, with all this goings on, I had no problem calling her my girlfriend, if that's what she wanted to hear. If she wanted to put a "title" on all this, that was fine by me! But—actually that's also when I kind of started to notice things slowly going awry.
Words were not just words to Karin, especially not my words. My words, in some strange way, spoke love to her. When I affirmed her with stuff like—"Baby, you're so perfect!" or "I don't know what I'd do without you," usually I was just saying that stuff because of what she had done for me; but in those words, she literally felt my love for her. It was weird how only words could do that. And honestly, I had gotten good at affirming her.
Affirming her always got me what I wanted. So why not do it here and there? But lately I had noticed something—Karin was truthfully in love with me, but I wasn't with her. Yes, I loved her as a best friend, (which to me was deeper than any love one could provide); but I didn't love her romantically. At least I didn't think I loved her romantically. To be honest, I believed that I was using her, and the only reason I had come to this point was because of my guilty conscience. It was making me take few steps back! I guess I needed to sit down and talk to her.
