I remember looking at him.
His eyes were blue like the ocean. Pulling me in, deeper and deeper drowning me softly but within a moment, I was spit out and found myself back where I started on shore, but lost.
I found myself in him. He made me so happy, he was like my personal eraser. The more time I spent with him, the more I forgot about things that brought me down, the more I forgot about my life before he was ever a part of it. I didn't want to think about life without him, ever. I'd always tell him I couldn't live without him, it would be merely impossible.
I guess I was right.
When I was with him, the world didn't seem so bad any more and I didn't hurt as much as before.
He felt like a gift from god and when he was taken away, I knew only the devil could be capable of such a painful thing. You don't give someone love, and then take it away. I felt as if a part of me was ripped to shreds, and that part of myself has still not been recovered yet. Years later, and I still feel I may never be able to forget him, and move on. I was so attached, maybe even too attached.
After a repetition of failed attempts of forgetting him, I realized no amount of expensive vodka or drunk hookups could ever take away this feeling. I didn't want to drink and forget for the night because it was only temporary and I'd have to wake up to that terrible feeling all over again lying next to a stranger.
I wanted a permanent solution, I needed one.
I still do.
I didn't realize just how truly lost I was until I was left alone without him to guide me. He didn't like when I drank, he told me he knew I was much better than that. I guess he had just a little too much faith in me.
I loved him, I was young and stupid but I loved him.
When I was with my friends, all I could think of was him. When boys called me beautiful and tried to make me feel special, I would feel the familiar pain in my chest because I knew I could never hear those words again from him.
I lost all of my strength, and my confidence when I lost him. I know I've lost him forever but have I lost the strength to continue on? It sure feels like it, and it's torture I must endure every day.
YOU ARE READING
Forgetting Mr.
General Fiction"I'm his Salvation" I thought to myself smiling. I know now that I was nothing but his Damnation in disguise. A story and painful outcome of an illicit relationship between a student and teacher and attempts of trying to forget the past and achieve...
