Coffee and Insanity

The Aftermath of a Breakup - Her

My tears are bitter, salty. Somehow dehydrated.

My face is drenched in tears and sweat and I don't know if you're still the reason I cry this hard often.

I know what happened. I remember clearly you don't love me anymore, and something tells me you never did.

I know I also don't love you anymore, but I know what I felt was true. That's why it hurt so much when you lied.

You're my first love, my first broken heart.

What I'm feeling is the aftermath of the nothingness of coping. Waiting for that message that will never be there. Waiting for that non-existent smell of pancakes on a Sunday morning.

I just want closure. I want to hear from you how, somehow, you were hurt by the fact of me leaving, even if it was you who left.

I know you're trying to understand. I admit that even now, I still think what I did was impulsive, but I don't regret it. Whatever happened, it need to end.

I know, in a way, you also want closure. I know it by the number of times you asked me if we could talk. But it never seemed urgent for you.

But that's okay. I know it's not because you already have somebody that you're in love with. After all, that's why you left.

fin.

*

It's not connected to coffee in any sort of way, but it's sort of appropriate since breakups are insane.

The last update on this account was 7 months ago, and this update was a repost from my tumblr account that hasn't been updated for almost 4 months.

I have no sorry notes of whatsoever, because lately I've felt like that spark that causes me to write disappeared. If it's permanent, I do not know.

If you read what those I've written, thank you, but goodbye, for now.