I've decided to write my story with him in this page, because I need to know when did it all go wrong.
It all first started in the subway, he was reading To Kill a Mockingbird. I've never read that book, but what caught my attention was the look on his face. He was so focused on it that I swear he probably was unaware of the world around him. In fact, I think I realized he was his own world. So I introduced myself, because I may not be confident but his aura made me strong enough to walk to him and hear his deep, husky voice. I still get goosebumps.
We started talking more and more, had late night Skype calls, became great friends. He picked me up when I fell, he made me feel like the most gorgeous human being on Earth.
When we first made love, he held on me tight in a loving way, as if I was a as fragile as crystal that could break at any second. He made me love Spring mornings, black coffee, storms and art, And then he took it all away.
He met a new guy, hung out with him more. I didn't get jealous because I trusted him more than I trusted myself. Time passed and he forgot about me, he forgot about how to make me smile. And one day, instead of his body, laying beside me in bed there was a piece of paper. "It's over".
He didn't even dare to tell me. He blocked my number, packed his things when I was asleep and left, leaving that goddamn note.
I kept it. Indeed, every morning I read it as a reminder of why I can only trust my own guts.
It's my fault, I was the one who fell in love with him and his stupid smile.
Maybe I should read To Kill a Mockingbird.
-jjk
[unedited]
