What a waste of perfectly good coffee.
that's right. think of the little things. try to keep it at bay.
My hands pluck the shards of the delicate coffee cup - your favourite cup.
don't think about it. don't think about it.
I fight to keep my breathing shallow, cool, unaffected. But I know, I already know. I've failed. It was game, set, and match the moment I stepped into our apartment. Everything felt wrong you see. There's something in the air, dear. Something wicked, like the rot that's settled in, like mold that won't let go.
The air is menacing and though I'm doing everything I can to play deaf, to delay this as long as possible. I know I have to do it.
A fresh round of sobs rips through our quiet home.
our. it's still ours. it's not over yet.
I try to be as quiet as possible as I clean; carefully picking up the shards, trying to get rid of it before you find them, before you get hurt, or worse. And believe me, the last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt you.
I guess it won't matter to you anymore, because you've already made up your mind. But I'll try. I'll try and try again.
Because I love you. Despite everything, despite what I did, I love you. I really do.
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AN: So, who left who?
