11:11 \\ mgc [completed]

20:00

[artist recommendation: shawn mendes]

It was 8 pm.

They wouldn't let me bail you out.

I had savings, money I wanted to spend on you but they wouldn't let me. I had talked to the officer several times but he wouldn't even let me near anywhere your cell, much less pay to let you out.

I was tired, physically and mentally. But I had no where to go to, no place called home. They say home is where the heart is, but my heart no longer belonged to me. It was with you, but I could feel it. Feel you squeezing my heart, feel you continuously prodding it with knifes. I could feel you breaking it.

It had been eight hours. Eight hours since you'd left me verbally. But I couldn't help but think that it had been a lot more than eight hours since you'd actually left me for good. I had felt your hugs getting colder, your goodbyes sharper. God had thrown several pebbles in our path, stones that we had overcome together.

So what was this huge hurdle in our path, one we couldn't possibly jump across?

++

They woke me up half an hour later. I'd fallen asleep, my legs curled up around me in a position I did not quite understand. When I woke up, I felt eyes on me. I saw old men, grubby teenagers, saw all of them staring at me. I looked at my body. My clothes had ridden up.

I quickly sat up and pulled my shorts down, straightened my tee shirt. They didn't look away. They were still looking at me, leering, smirking.

I felt exposed.

But when I looked at you, only to see you looking at a wall with a steely gaze, I felt more violated than I had ever did.

You didn't care. You didn't care anymore that people were looking at me with lustful gazes, didn't care that they were unclothing me with their eyes. How could you not care? How could you see me being a prey and still look away?

I didn't understand.

So I got up and left.