The Secrets to New York

Fifteen | Lost In Translation

I don’t know what exactly happened to us after that. Everything faded so casually, with a cruel intensity that I have never been able to describe.

It all sort of happened in slow motion. We would argue over the most ridiculous things for no reason. I even threw my phone at you one day. (It missed because I suck, but I didn’t want to actually hit you anyway. It was just to prove a point, I guess). I don’t know what finally broke us, though.

Maybe it was just because we were broken.

I almost felt myself shatter into a million tiny pieces when you finally let the words slip out of our mouth: I-I can’t see you anymore, Emery.

Up until that moment I didn’t know it was possible for words to hurt that bad. It was like I finally got what I had been expecting the whole time I had known you--the goodbye. We were supposed to be forever, but nothing really lasts that long. It all fades eventually, and nothing we can do will save us from those fallouts.

I didn’t reply to your words (or at least I don’t remember replying); I just walked back to my car and drove to my apartment in a daze. I didn’t even fall apart until I laid down on my fluffy, queen sized bed. A picture of the two of us at thanksgiving was sitting on the nightstand next to me and I remember sighing deeply.

I closed my eyes and let the tears begin to fall from my face. I looked over at the frame and I knew that I would never be able to forget you, because you had changed me. I knew that I would always love you.