Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
For five years, our love knew no bounds.
We were perfectly in love.
We were that couple people hated to be around because of how completely comfortable we were around each other.
But then, something changed. I think it happened because of your father's accident.
You grew distant. We didn't see each other very often. The only time we spoke was over the phone, but only about once a week and for barely any time.
This continued for five months.
Finally, I grew sick of the waiting. You clearly weren't willing to put in the effort anymore, because your father had been fine for a few weeks at that point.
I broke it off.
For five days, I felt content.
I was happy with my decision. I didn't have to worry when the next time I would see you was. I didn't spend every waking hour hoping you'd send me a small text. Sure, I was a little sad. But ultimately, I knew I would be better off without you and your unreliability. And you didn't seem to care when I told you we were over.
All it took was five minutes of scrolling through Instagram to realize I'd fucked up.
I opened the message from you. It was two pictures and a couple of sentences.
The memories flooded back.
Holding hands on the beach, kissing as the sun set.
In bed together, your bare skin pressed against mine. The way you'd smiled while we kissed.
Christmas together, all laughter and fun.
I'd never hear your laugh again. Never would I see you stumble exhausted into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
I would never taste your lips again.
I closed my eyes and let the tears fall.
I was in both of the pictures you posted. One was of us together, and we were staring into each other's eyes. The other was a messy picture of me in my glasses with tangled hair. I hated the picture. You'd always loved it though, saying the smile I was wearing always made you laugh and fall even deeper into love with me.
Soon I was screaming. Why? Why did I let you go? How could I be so fucking stupid?
I read the caption again, shaking.
Good night, my angel. I'm so sorry I couldn't explain what was wrong in those last few months. Maybe it's better we ended things. When you read this, I'll already be gone. My father agreed to send this for me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you the cancer had come back. And I'm sorry if didn't tell you I had so little time left. But I hope we meet again. Go live your life for me.
I bit my lip, shaking. I threw my phone across the room.
My knees buckled, and I fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.
Gone.
You were gone.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Loosely inspired by a comment left on The Lumineers's Sleep on the Floor music video.
