It's Short
He sat there. Shoulders slumped and his head in his hands. His breath started to quicken and the wetness on his cheeks were fairly visible. The tears were becoming unbearable.
He still cries for me. Every day he breaks down in sobs wondering how he could've been better. But the truth is, he was the best. He says that he should've said he loved me more, when he knows he said it to me at least every thirty seconds. It was never his fault.
"God, Mitch why did you have to leave?!" He slammed his fists on the kitchen table in frustration. I walked over to his shaking body and ran my fingers through his messed up blonde hair. "I'm here now it's okay." I pressed my lips to his wet cheeks.
Nothing. That's what I thought.
"Mitch come back!" He said between sobs. He rested his forehead against the cold wood, breathing heavily. "I'm here now, don't worry." He cried, and cried, and cried.
"Shhh. Baby, I'm right here. What are you crying about?" I asked hugging his trembling body close to mine. He got up from his seat and walked to the counter opening a bottle of alcohol and drinking away. "Scott..." I blinked back tears as I tried to remove the bottle from his hands. I grabbed his face in my hands, looking at him in the eyes. He just walked right past me, not bothering to acknowledge my existence.
"I'm here, Scott! Can't you see me?!" I cried out walking towards him. He had his back turned from me. I turned to face him, seeing his red eyes and his face sad and sorrowful. I wrapped my arms across his waist resting my forehead on his shoulder crying into it. "Why can't you see me, Scotty? Baby, tell me."
He didn't say anything. He just walked right through me, leaving me speechless.
