She leaves without an explanation

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Writing this physically and emotionally HURT & made me cry sooo yeah I'm sorry in advance 🥲

This is going to be a long one and there will most likely be two or three parts

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December 17th, 2018

Y/n POV

I walk into me and Taylor's shared home, exhausted as fuck. Work was tiring as normal and all I wanted was a hug, kiss, and cuddles from my girlfriend.

I drop my purse and keys on the table near the door and head upstairs to change into some comfier clothes. Taylor didn't have to go into the studio or do anything today so she was probably in bed with the cats.

I walk into our room and she's not in there, neither are the cats. It was odd, but I brushed it off. I take off my work clothes and put on one her oversized t shirts that was laying on the bed.

She's probably in her music room.

I open the door to our walk in closet to put my work clothes away and immediately come to a halt. Almost all of her clothes and stuff is gone.

What the hell?

I leave our room and bolt to her music room. I open the door and see that a lot of her equipment and instruments are gone too.

Tears start to fill my eyes as I run downstairs and I head towards the kitchen. The cats scratching post, water bowls, and food bowls are gone too.

I turn around and a note on the counter catches my eye. I pick it up and tears fall down my cheeks as I read it.

I'm sorry. I love you.

- Taylor

My back hits the pantry door and I slid to the floor with the note in my hand, all while the tears just keep flowing out of my eyes, down my cheeks, and onto the note that I still hold in my hands. A million thoughts run through my head.

Did I do something? Am I just not good enough? Did she find someone better?

I pick up my phone, go to her contact, and text her.

You
Taylor

You
What the fuck

You
What's going on???

You
What do you mean by "I'm sorry. I love you."

You
Baby please answer me... I'm scared and worried
read 5:46pm

She read it, but didn't respond so I decide to call her. I press the call button, but after two rings it goes to voicemail.

She declined it.

Tears fill my eyes again. I stand up, walk over to the couch, plop on the long part, and cover myself with the blanket she got me for Christmas last year. The last time I used this blanket, we were both cuddled under it while watching a horror movie. It smelled like her. So did the shirt I was wearing.

I pick up my phone and open social media. It was probably a bad idea, but whatever. The first thing I see a post from a fan. It was a photo of me and Taylor from a few months back.

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