This is Our Story

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I dedicate this book to my first heartbreak

Maxence, you have been an amazing first love and I wished that our story could've lasted longer and I wish, with what's left of my heart, that you wouldn't have chose to close our book before we truly had the chance to reach the end.

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I never thought that letting go would be this hard for me.

Everything was perfectly planned and I've positioned myself in a place where nothing could ever hurt me and where I could never hurt anyone before I go, but look where I am now.

I have no idea how I could possibly explain what the void inside of me feels like in any other word, but lately, that's all I can think about.

There must be some other extravagant word to explain how I feel in a more precise way. One word is too vague. One word will never be enough.

Empty, maybe?

Still not quite it.

Everything that I do feel pointless and I spend my days in bed with my eyes wide open. Sometimes, I'll open the curtains and take a look at the outside world but they never stay open for long. I can't stand to look at all of these people, living such an oblivious life.

Can't they see that everything seem so wrong? From the way we treat one another to the way we dress, nothing is right. Nothing in this world will feel right anymore.

I readjust the pillow under my head and close my eyes.

The color of her eyes, the smell of her hair, her voice... It hits me all at once and I take a deep breath to calm myself.

It'll pass.

I can't stand to think about it. About how big of a fool I was and how everything I did is one huge mistake. I cannot seem to travel in my thoughts without bumping into some pieces, some hints of her.

Damn.

I think about her smile, about her laugh...

God.

I turn around, bury my face in my pillow and let out a deep grunt.

This is all pure torture. I guess this is all I deserve after all.

I need to get my mind off of her and her hauntingly beautiful face.

I get up and search for a jeans among all the clothes that basically constitute the floor. I pick one up, sniff it, then put it on. I grab a shirt on my desk and pulls it over my head, shrugging on my coat. I can feel a couple of dollar bills in my pocket with the tips of my fingers, along with my keys so I head out and close the door behind me.

As I'm walking down the stairs of my apartment, I have to jump past Gary, the old man who lives right underneath me and who always passes out in front of his doorway. His house stinks, a mix of cheap beer, dog piss and burned toast. I can see why his wife left him a couple of months ago.

It's raining today and I didn't think about bringing an umbrella with me and do not feel like going back for it, so I decide to ignore the fact that my hair is getting soaking wet, just like my clothes.

I walk to the main street and begin to search for some place to stay for a while. I've found that being in a place full of noise and people helps me clear my mind, even if it's just for a little while.

As I walk under the eyes of the other passers, probably wondering why in the hell I am walking in the rain as if I'm not making a complete idiot of myself. I'm too absorbed in my thoughts to care about what they think of me.