11. 02. 13
I had to take some time to recover from your touch. My shoulder still burns. But, I gathered the courage to write to you today because, frankly, I have a lot to say.
I hate you.
I hate you for making me need you when I’m sad or when I wake up alone on a Sunday morning. I hate you for making me need your soothing touch and the feel of your arms around me. I hate you for making me crave the sensation of your fingers dancing along my spine or the tingle your lips leave on my skin. I hate you for making me open up to you and making me fall for you so fucking hard. Only when you ended up leaving me like everyone else.
I hate you because every time I drink coffee I think of you and every time I watch a game show I remember how competitive you are. I hate you because every time I see someone with a dimpled smile or a mop of curly locks my heart pounds in my chest. I hate you because every time someone talks to me I think about what you would say or how you would react. I hate you because I can’t go five minutes without thinking of you.
But, I love you.
I love you because you picked me up when I was crumbling and you made me whole. I love you for always making me laugh with your corny jokes. I love you for standing up for me to your mom. I love you for always soothing me from my nightmares. I love you because you always cooked dinner for the both of us because you know I can’t tell a whisk from a spatula. I love you because you always knew what I needed when I needed it. I love you because you challenged me and fought me on every little thing. I love you because you made me happy, even if I now feel like you left a gaping hole in my chest.
I love you for pretending to listen to my boring stories. I love you because you let me see you cry at your dad’s funeral, when you shut everyone else out. I love you because you saw the fire in my eyes and wanted to play with it. I love you because you made me face the demons that live in my brain like parasites. I love you because you accepted every single one of my flaws. I love you because you loved me.
I love you because you got out while you still could.
I’m not so okay,
Daisy
YOU ARE READING
When You Left
Short StoryAfter Parker -a hopeless romantic who smokes too much for his own good- leaves Daisy -a troubled alcoholic with a haunting past- with a kiss on the cheek and no explanation as to why he just shattered her entire world, she sits down with pen and pap...
