We always told each other everything. If we felt mad or annoyed with each other, or sad or upset about something. It could be as serious as telling you about a friend who'd gotten into an accident or as simple and mediocre as ranting about how horrible my day at work was.
But you'd always sit and listen to everything I had to say animatedly. As if I was the most interesting thing you'd ever seen. We'd sit on the sofa, facing each other. You leaning on the backrest, head supported on one hand. I sat cross-legged in front of you.
You'd tease me about how much I used my hands when I was ranting. Or how adorable I looked with my nose scrunched up when I was annoyed. Every once in a while, you'd reach across and play with a strand of my hair, fiddle with my fingers, or pull my cheeks, completely distracting me from what I was saying.
This either ended in a massive cuddling fest or a full-blown make-out session. The former was always my favorite though. I could ask for nothing more but to be wrapped up in your warmth.
Those simple moments are often the ones I miss the most. It was always the little things that mattered. Those tiny gestures or habits that convinced your other half how much you love them.
Now I'm not so sure how many of those were real and how many pretend.
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I'm so tired. Tired of crying, tired of trying to convince myself I was okay, tired of thinking about you, tired of thinking that maybe I could get over you. I'm just tired of everything.
I thought I'd be okay. But I just can't seem to let you go. I don't want to. And it seems like you don't either because you're always in my headspace, in my memory. Sometimes I wonder why I'm thinking about you when I know that you're not thinking of me.
I feel like I'm trapped in our memories, in all that could have been. Or maybe it couldn't have been anything but this.
Maybe we weren't cut out for the forever I thought we both wanted. Or maybe forever wasn't cut out for us.
I finally realize how truly broken I am. I can't be fixed. Even if you were still here, you wouldn't have been able to fix me.
I'm broken beyond repair and it's no one's fault but mine alone.
YOU ARE READING
When You Left
Short StoryWhat do you do when the one person you don't want to lose, walks out of your life forever?