you made me leave.

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(trigger warning!- none, unless you don't like sad stuff :(, or if you don't like long one-shots, (3743 words to be exact), then otherwise enjoy!!)
"If it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I got it wrong somehow. I know my love should be celebrated.. but you tolerate it"
tolerate it- Taylor Swift
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"Michael! You're home" You feel the excitement course through your veins as you see that familiar tall man, that you love so much, walked through the door

"I made dinner, you're favorite! spaghetti and meatballs, with extra meatballs! And..." You cut your ramble off, as Michael walks past you and up the stairs, not acknowledging anything you had just said.

Your face quickly fell as your eyes followed his movements, as he slowly went up the stairs, without a glance back at you, before he disappeared up the stairs until you heard his footsteps become more of a distant echo, and the door slammed shut.

You felt your eyes water before they quietly fell slowly from your rosy cheeks.

You sniffed as you nodded to yourself in reassurance.

It's me isnt it..?

The thought glided into your brain as the past couple of days replayed as you started cleaning the kitchen, knowing there was no point in hoping he might come downstairs.

You see, this is not the first time Michael has done this. In fact, this is one of the many nights that this had occurred. It was the same no response, just walk right past you and locked himself up in your shared bedroom in the Myers house. What made it worse is you didn't even know why he became this way. In the beginning, you just gave him his space and maybe thought that something personal was bothering him. You had tried talking to him, but every time Michael would just walk right past you, almost knocking you over once when you would get in his way.

When you would go up to your bedroom, the door would be locked. You had taken up sleeping and showering in the guest bedroom, and bathroom hallway.

When you would wake in the mornings, he would leave the door open, and only see his night clothes and dirty socks on the floor. The bedsheets completely rumpled as always, but empty.

Some mornings you would lay in his spot in the bed and just cry, as you felt the cold sheets under you that smelled like him, and wrapped your arms around his pillow, imagining it were him.

You felt ashamed at how sad and affected you had become, how low you had come, but what could anyone say? You loved that man more than you loved yourself. That man had protected you when you needed it, made you laugh until your stomach hurt, wrapped his arms around you in his sleep, woke you up with coffee and kisses, and had shared your most vulnerable moments and secrets. He was practically your first everything. You physically couldn't even fathom the idea of ever letting him go.

But every day you felt a piece of him leaving and you were trapped in the despair of not knowing how to keep the pieces with you.

You wanted to believe that maybe he just had a bad day, maybe you said something wrong and he would forgive you, maybe he just wanted alone time, maybe he didn't get a kill maybe, maybe..maybe.

But the only maybe that was more of a certainty, was maybe it was just you. Maybe he just didn't love you anymore. Maybe him pretending you didn't exist was his way of getting you to unexist from his own life.

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