Loving Her Was Red

"Would you rather have loved and lost, than never have loved at all?"

"So, Chase, tell me more about Gabry." Dave, my psychologist, said.

Gabry.
It was hard.
Hard thinking about her.
Knowing that she would never hold my hand.
Never laugh at my cheesy jokes.
Never lean in close to me, her warm breath hitting my face. Her lips crashing into mine.
Never.
Never again.

"She... I..." I was at a loss of words. She was my life. She was perfect. With all her little imperfections.

"I..." I clenched my hand into a fist.
I was angry.
Angry at the world.
Angry at her for leaving me.
Angry at myself.
For letting her leave.

I looked down at the ground in defeat.

"I can't." I responded. A tear ran down my face.

"Let's start from the beginning," Dave gave me a reassuring smile, "tell me about the day you met her. Then, go on from there."