He was at the door.
Grey at hazel. Hazel at grey. Everything comes rushing back, hitting me like a tsunami.
Who I was?
Who you were?
Who we were?
We held on. We let go. And everything in between was lost. Just the way you like it until you don't. The flood of memories ends with where you stand, clearly having dug everything up.
After 5 years, everything has changed so much so that nothing has.
Jacob Keller. Your name engraved in my mind, burned into my heart, embossed into my soul and scarred in my skin. Ringing, over and over after all these years.
"Victoria," my name rolls off your tongue so easily like the words you said before you left me to my own devices—as if I couldn't hate my own name more. I slam the door in your face breaking off our intense unwanted staring session and surprisingly you didn't try to force it open like how I thought you would. I guessed you've changed as well.
Leaning against the door for the first time in a long time, I began to think about us.
What would've happened if only we held on ?
YOU ARE READING
If Only We Held On
General FictionI held on to you the way I wanted you to hold on to me. But instead, you left. Without a single word for me to remember you by. So now not only have I lost them. I've lost you. I've lost us. And most of all I lost me.
