I stare blankly at my phone screen, my fingers cold and lifeless against the smooth glass.
Music hums softly in my ears, each note wrapping around my heart like a sad embrace.
Outside, the rain pours relentlessly—like the storm inside me. It feels fitting somehow.
As if the skies decided to cry on my behalf because I no longer have the strength to.
It’s 9:22 PM.
I should get up.
I should wash my face, change into something comfortable, do anything to convince myself that I’ll be okay.
But I can’t.
My body feels like a sinking ship, dragging my mind along with it, deeper into this sea of exhaustion.
I’m tired—tired in ways that sleep can't fix.
And then, it happens.
A song slips into the playlist.
His favorite song.
Before I can stop it, the first few notes sneak through my headphones, winding their way into the cracks of my soul.
My breath catches.
The tears come slowly at first, gathering quietly at the corners of my eyes until they spill over, uninvited.
His face flashes in my mind—the way his lips curled when he smiled, the light in his eyes that used to make the world disappear.
How could he do this to me?
How does someone you love become the source of so much hurt?
How many more times do I have to bleed for him in silence?
How many times will I break apart, only to piece myself back together, pretending I’m whole?
I wonder if I’m being too much.
Am I overreacting? Or is this what it really means to love—to ache so deeply that you lose pieces of yourself?
I wish I could be like the rain.
The kind that falls without restraint, then leaves behind clear skies and quiet streets.
If I could be the rain, maybe this ache would pour out of me until I was empty, leaving me light and free, washed clean of all the memories.
But I can’t.
I carry them like weights—heavy and unforgiving.
If only he could feel this.
If only he knew what it’s like to walk through life with a heart bruised by his lies.
Maybe then, he would understand.
Maybe then, he’d see how much it costs to hold on to someone who never cared enough to stay.
The memories rush in, sharp and cruel, as if they’d been waiting for this moment.
I remember the betrayal, the lies, smooth as silk, wrapping around me like chains.
I remember the insults he tried to disguise as jokes, the times he made me feel small, like I was never enough.
How did I end up here, drowning in guilt over a relationship I fought so hard to save?
We’ve been over for so long.
But somehow, the ghost of what we were still haunts me.
Why can’t I let go?
Why does he still live rent-free in my mind, showing up unannounced in the quietest moments—like now, with this song?
Is it because he once begged for a second chance?
That day, I remember the desperation in his voice, the way his hands trembled when he reached for mine.
I said no.
I had to say no.
I knew that if I let him back in, he would only break me again.
I built walls around my heart for a reason—to keep the pain out, to keep him out.
But did I make the right choice? Or did I ruin the one chance I had to fix things between us?
I did what I thought was right.
I gave everything I had to keep myself from falling back into his traps, his empty promises.
And still, it wasn’t enough.
The pain found me anyway.
So, what is this now?
Why am I still here, stuck in this moment, years later?
I close my eyes, wishing—begging—that this is just a dream.
If I wake up, maybe the ache will disappear with the morning light.
Maybe the memories will scatter like shadows chased away by the sun.
Please, Lord, Wake me up. Wake me up from this nightmare. Let me see the truth—whatever it is—and take this weight off my heart.
But the rain keeps falling, as if it knows that some storms take longer to pass.
And so, I lie here, letting the tears flow freely, hoping they’ll wash away the pieces of him still lodged inside me.
I hope that someday, when the rain stops, the pain will stop too.
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll learn how to live again—without the weight of what could’ve been.
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Non-FictionLife often presents itself as a series of hurdles, each one taller than the last. These hurdles, though daunting, are not meant to break us but to shape us into who we are meant to be. It is through our darkest nights that we gain the strength to fa...