Ending

“I used to love you so much,” he whispered.
.
To him, we were already in past tense, a lost cause. To me, he was tomorrow wrapped in promises.
.
He stood up to leave and I couldn’t find the right words to make him stay. Words, I never came up short with him. Him, who stripped off skin from bones from soul.
.
I grabbed his sweater from the foot of my bed, the one I wear to sleep every night, ran to him.
.
“Here, take it,” I cried, tears becoming rivers on cheeks. For a minute there, I caught a glimpse of the man who would fight to keep us together.
.
Without a word, he turned his back on me and sobbed, shoulders shaking and feet walking out the door.
.
How did it come to this – love, not being enough, for two people to stay together?
Outside, I could hear the sirens of a fire truck. Somewhere out there, a house was burning.
.
Also, here. In the quiet.
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Ending

how I’d like us to begin again

There was the slightest of touch on my eyelashes, it could almost just be the wind. And then, on my cheek, trailing down to my collarbone. Even with my eyes closed, my skin remembered those hands.
.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” a voice whispered, gentle like a lullaby. My heart hammered in response, twice as fast, as if it hasn’t beaten for years.
.
I opened my eyes, expecting to wake up from a dream. Instead, I woke up to a pair of blue eyes.
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“You stayed,” I said mostly to myself, in wonder, poking his arm to feel if this was real. It was.
.
“Did I say or do anything stupid?” I asked, as flashbacks from last night came to me in waves: a birthday party, him, drowning feelings with too many shots, the drive home, throwing up somewhere along the way, hazy.
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He shrugged, “Nah.”
 .
I sighed a breath of relief.
.
Then, he broke into a smile. “I missed you, too.”
how I’d like us to begin again

me looking at him: I missed you every day, it hurt. The silence was never enough to forget the sound of your sighs or the way your touch leaves sparks on my skin. Sometimes, I wish it was enough. But oftentimes, I wish we can go back. Or start over. I’ll love you still either way, better.

also, me:

things I’ve finally accepted

i.  You loved me, despite my flaws and mood storms, in all ways I needed
.
ii.  But forever ends when one gives up while the other still fights
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iii. You’re never coming back, even just as a friend
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iv. I probably will never going to open up to anyone as much as I did to you, probably will never love as easily as did with you
.
v. You’re happier with her
.
vi. Time can’t heal all wounds, but it will heal you enough to move forward
.
vii. You will always be the ghost that will haunt me when new lovers come along, the one I will compare everyone to
.
viii. I will miss you, on days I am happy, on days I am lonely, and on days when I do nothing at all
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ix. I am free without you
.
x. A small part of me will always belong to you
things I’ve finally accepted
I had pushed him away many times,
screamed ‘I don’t feel anything so just leave’
until tears fall from those hopeful eyes.
.
But his response was always the same –
“I love you. And I refuse to believe that you are this empty shell incapable of emotions. Because I know that you are in there somewhere, bursting of love and longing. And I won’t give up. Until the day you open up yourself again, I will stay.”
“Don’t wait for me anymore,” I said,
extinguishing all traces of hope for the future, of us.
.
“Why?”
One word, a thousand emotions.
Grief, hopelessness, fear.
.
I almost took my words back. Almost.
.
“Just don’t,” I hung up.
And the tears started falling.