Seems like the world is going down, my dear

The light in your window

To -L. Youve hurt me.

Why does it hurt, to see a light in your window? A bright yellow light burning in a window on the third floor of your house. The house we made so many memories in, the house we've spent our childhoods in. The house I loved, and you hated. You never let me see what's hidden behind the curtains you pulled together so tightly.

I walked past your street, checking for a light in your window each day. I remember the day it stood open for the first time. I remember the anger I felt towards her, she dared to enter your room. The room I loved, and you hated. I dont know why I was so angry. I didnt want her to heal. I wanted to let her see what she had done, and I wanted her to suffer as much and as long as I did.

I remember the day there was light for the first time. I remember the day you werent in the bus for the first time. I remember the day you blocked me. I remember the day I saw you again. You didnt say anything, you probably didnt even recognize me, but I saw you.

So many questions. So many feelings. Why did it hurt?

Now the light is back in your window. It hurts. Knowing you dont care enough about the house that you hate, sitting up there in the room that you hate, alongside the people you dont seem to hate anymore. Knowing you dont care enough about me to let me know there's light in your window again. To let me see whats hidden behind the curtains you pulled together so tightly.

Why did you just bring light into your window, but not back into my eyes, my soul and my heart which you used to light up so well? You used to light me up on fire, fire only stopped by the rain you and I danced in together, rain soaking us, drowning us, keeping us together, tearing us apart, rain I loved, and you hated.

I loved you. I loved dancing in the rain with you. I loved your laugh, your smile, your voice, the sound of your footsteps when you walked up my stairs.

Why did you tear me apart? Why dont you at least miss me?

You let me suffer. You let me drown in the pieces of everything youve ripped apart, while desperately trying to put them back together. You let me die in the mess youve made.

There was light in your window.

You came back home into the light you hate. I wonder: Is it me you hate now?

You returned to your home, but you didnt return to me. I wonder: Am I not a part of your home anymore?