Y/n's POV:
Maybe I am supposed to hurt non stop and brutally for months on end, wishing that everything could just stop working, including my battered heart that doesn't even bear feelings any longer.
Maybe I am supposed to have this constant ache for him that doesn't leave me alone and is a constant reminder of the loss I have endured.
As soon as he left, someone else came knocking at my door, a face that I prayed to never see again, thinking that I only had to deal with this dreaded person through my teen years and that happy goodbye was going to be the last one.
But as soon as I opened the door depression came waltzing into my home, as if she had the right and was taunting me as if to say, "miss me? This is our home now."
And she followed me everywhere, never letting a meaningful genuine smile cross my face, anything I saw, she'd bring him up.
"That's a nice guitar," she'd snicker if we passed one, "kind of reminds me of shawn's."
On and on the torment I endured, trying to put up walls from myself, and from her.
She'd mention memories until I was broken down at 2 am trying not to scream, even though It's only us in the whole lonely house.
And when I finally got that phone call from him, the one I've been waiting for for months, depression hit decline and said, "he never really cared."
And when he showed up on my doorstep upset that we haven't talked in months, depression grabbed the lock and turned it with a devilish smile telling him to go away.
After a while, I got used to her presence always being there, making every once vibrant memory black and white and barely recognizable. She convinced me it was a good thing that I let him go, but there was a spark deep inside me that knew this was a lie, her whole purpose was a lie.
But I continued to ache, and not to give a damn, and soon enough I was eating right out of depression's hand.
And she'd whisper in my ear, "aren't you glad?"
________________________________________~woah guys I had to like really think about this and sorry the plot is kind of dark.
~Leah
