Losing you wasn't just painful, it was fucking damaging also. It wasn't just me sitting on the sofa surrounded by my friends as we drank endless amounts of alcohol to try and forget you. It was me staying up at four in the morning because the thought of you was so fucking strong I couldn't even close my eyes without seeing your face. It was me swallowing thickly and blinking back tears every time I was in public, the hole in my life chest causing my breaths to come out shaky rather than normal. It was me laughing at things for no reason as my stomach turned because the urge of falling apart was getting stronger. It was me crying at random hours during the day and me not wanting to get out of bed. It wasn't just me staring blankly at your number, deciding whether or not I should call you. It was me throwing my phone and the wall and breaking it, because I was drunk again and the thought of you ever changing your information terrified me. It was me deleting our conversations and regretting it because now I couldn't know where we went wrong.
It fucking hurt, losing you had hurt and I wasn't ever able to forget that kind of pain.
YOU ARE READING
ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴs
Poesiaanother short stories book with five chapters. based on real emotions.
