Goddamit, Kyle.
I was just starting to feel better and I was actually eating, sleeping, and talking.
I haven't done any of those things since you left.
Now I've crumbled down, like a broken building.
I was actually okay for a little while with you, but of course only for a little while though.
Why did you have to fuck it all up by leaving?
Where even are you?
It been a fucking month, Kyle.
A month of absolute déjà vu.
If you wanted to know, my coffee has gotten darker as the days went on.
It's back to straight black coffee, again.
And yet, it's no longer bitter because all my bitterness is towards you now, Kyle.
Why'd you have to leave, when things were just getting good?
YOU ARE READING
No Talking, Nor Speaking
Kısa Hikaye"I wish I could talk to you, but it doesn't look like I can anymore." 5/5/15 #10 in short stories
