I Loved You Even You Left

They say every love story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. I always thought ours would skip that last part.

Even today, I close my eyes and can still hear his laughter - low and warm, like the crackling of a fireplace on a cold winter's night. I can still see in my mind the way his smile lit up a room, the way his hand fit perfectly in mine, as if it was made for that sole purpose. Our love was nothing special, but it was ours, and for a while, that was enough.

I didn't know, in those early days, how easily happiness could be broken. Not that I knew how something so bright, full of promise, could shatter into pieces, and then leave me holding nothing but a handful of shard.

But I still cannot forget him.

I can never forget the way he stepped into my life as though he was destined to. I can never forget the very quiet talks in the middle of the night, the silence, or feeling that perhaps I am not alone for the first time in my life. I can never forget the day he left, carrying some part of me with him.

This is our story-the good, the bad, and everything in between.

It's the story of how I loved him, even when it hurt.
It's the story of how I loved him, even when he left.