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I wake up to the soft light of the morning seeping through my window, the sun filtering in just enough to gently pull me from sleep. For a moment, I feel at peace, the warmth of my bed making me want to stay here forever.
Soon I drag myself out of bed, I go through my morning routine—brushing my teeth, getting dressed, making breakfast—but it's like I'm on autopilot, my thoughts elsewhere.
The week drags by in a blur, each day bleeding into the next. I wake up, go to work, come home, and repeat. It should be simple, something I'm used to, but lately, it feels off. No matter how busy I try to keep myself, my mind keeps drifting back to him. Father Charlie. The way his voice sounded in the space between us, the warmth of his hand on my shoulder, that steady, calm gaze that he always has even now no matter how busy I try to keep myself, he's always there in the back of my mind.
I need to get out of my head.
It's a Friday night when I decide I need a distraction—something to take my mind off of everything. Without thinking much, I grab my jacket and keys, deciding a trip to the local diner will clear my mind. At least there, the hum of conversations, the clink of dishes, and the smell of coffee will drown out the noise in my head
The diner is a small, familiar spot, the kind of place where the booths are worn and the menu hasn't changed in decades. I slide into a corner booth by the window, the soft glow of neon "Open" sign flickering outside casting a warm light over the room. There's a quiet comfort here, something about the stillness that feels like a break from everything else. The waitress brings me a mug of coffee, and I wrap my hands around it, letting the heat seep into my skin.
For a while, I just sit there, watching the world pass by through the window. People walk in and out, cars drive past, and the evening settles in around me. It's peaceful, or at least it should be. But even here, in this small space of quiet, I can't stop thinking about him. I take a sip of my coffee, the bitter taste lingering in my mouth.
The bell above the door jingles, and a couple walks in, laughing softly as they take a seat at a nearby table. I watch them for a moment, the way they share loving glances at each other, the way they fit so naturally into each other's space. It makes me ache for something I can't name, something I can't have. I stir the coffee, watching the dark liquid swirl in the mug, But my mind... my mind is drifting back to places I don't want to go, memories I'd rather forget.
I don't even know how it started. One moment, I'm sipping my coffee, trying to keep my thoughts from circling back to Father Charlie The next, my mind slips, like it always does, back to him.
My last relationship.
I didn't mean to think about him, didn't want to, but the memories have a way of sneaking up on me when I'm least expecting it. I try to push them away, but they always come back— his voice, his words, the way he made me feel like I was never enough. The way I gave everything, and it still wasn't enough
I take a shaky breath, my grip tightening on the mug as the images flash through my mind. The arguments, the constant feeling of walking on eggshells, the way he could tear me down with just a few words. I remember the exhaustion, the way it felt like I was always trying to keep my head above water, always trying to prove I was worth something, when deep down, I started to believe I wasn't
and the way I didn't have it in myself to go
My throat tightens, and I blink, trying to shake off the feeling, but it's too late. The memories hit harder than I expect, and suddenly, it's like I'm back there, standing in front of him, watching his face twist with anger, with disappointment. Hearing him cursing out my name, saying those things that cut so deep I didn't even realize how much they'd stuck with me until long after it was over
Even on my worst day, did I deserve, All the hell he gave me?
The way I used to make excuses for him, how I'd tell myself it wasn't that bad, that I could fix it, that I could fix him. That I could fix us. But I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much of myself I poured into that relationship, it was never enough. He was never going to change, and I was never going to be the person he wanted me to be
the warmth of the tears hit my cheeks. I blink, startled, and swipe at my face, but they keep coming, spilling over before I can stop them. I glance around the diner, embarrassed, hoping no one notices, but everyone's busy with their own conversations, their own meals. No one's looking at me, and somehow, that makes it worse. It makes me feel even more alone.
when the door to the diner jingles open. I hear the low murmur of voices, the kind of everyday noise that usually fades into the background. But this time, one voice cuts through the rest, and my heart stops.
I know that voice
It's soft, low, but with a warmth that makes it instantly recognizable. Father Charlie.
I glance up without thinking, my heart pounding in my chest, and my eyes search for him. And then, there he is. Walking through the door, his tall frame stepping into the glow of the diner lights. But he's not alone. A woman walks beside him, laughing softly at something he said, her arm brushing against his.
My stomach drops.
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LORE and was listening to "my tears ricochet" and it just felt fitting 😛
