End point

Chapter 1

Christopher

5 YEARS LATER...

When people say that they are dying on the inside, they aren't lying. I don't know which day it is anymore. I don't know what I'm doing or what I should be doing except the fact that I miss her. In these past five years, I felt regret, anger, emptiness, loss and many more feelings that are still killing me.

When I thought that I couldn't live a day without her, I've spent one thousand eight hundred and twenty five without her.

And did I live at all?

No.

I know that I'm still living, breathing, walking. But it's not living when your mind is constantly somewhere else.

I don't know where she is, I don't know how she's doing. I don't even know if she's alive as no one tells me anything about her. Her social media accounts are untouched, just the way it was five years ago. Only thing that makes me feel good is to look at her computer and sometimes I even feel like she's here. At first I had enough strength in me to go through the videos of her in there and look at the pictures of the person that I feel so much for. But then it just became like a knife that stabbed into my chest. Her voice became a razor that cut deeper and deeper. She was so happy and full of life while we were together and seeing myself happy back then makes me feel like that person doesn't exist anymore.

What did I do that she had the urge to leave me? I kind of know. But how did she know? And if she did then why didn't she just ask me? I would've told her that it wasn't my fault, that I didn't do it on purpose. I live with regret everyday. I shouldn't have picked up that phone, I shouldn't have gotten to that place. That girl tricked me with the thing that was on my mind for the past couple of months, just to find out that it was all a game to break us up. But I still don't know how she found out.

I can't imagine the pain she was in or still is and it makes me scared even more. Because I bloody know her. That girl had become a part of me in a way that I cannot explain. Which worries me. I don't know how I live with these thoughts anymore. I just hope someone informs me if something happens to her. That's all I can ask for.

"Hey Christopher." Laura walks into the hotel room I've been staying in. It's more of a residence than a hotel room really. I couldn't stay at that flat anymore. The memories were too much.

"Hi." I respond while typing on the keyboard. These stupid articles are the only thing that keep me entertained.

Her sweet voice caries itself though the thin wall that separates the main room from the kitchen. "I brought you some food." Through the columns I see her taking out a plastic container from the bag. I've told her hundred times to not to fucking bring me anything and she still doesn't listen. Women...

"You didn't have to." I say, without looking at her.

"Are you hungry? I can heat it up."

"No. I'm not."

"When was the last time you ate?" Fuck she's so annoying!

"Just fucking leave it in the kitchen." I snap.

"Okay." I hear her sigh. Fuck.

I put down my laptop on the coffee table and walk into the kitchen where she took upon herself to put the containers of food into my small fridge. "What did you bring?" The least I can do is to ask. I am being an asshole. Frankly, I have no desire to appear likeable.

Her small body turns to me. "Just some casserole, hash browns and mack and cheese." Why didn't you just bring your whole house?

"I'll have the casserole, if that's alright?" I say as I drag my legs towards the round two seat kitchen table to take a seat.