In the winter of 2017, I never thought I would fall in love again. The last time I tried ruined my whole being. It really did, for a very long while. I never wanted to feel that kind of pain again. So I built walls without ladders. Locked doors and threw away keys. Opened just enough windows for some sunlight. But you found me. And showed me love I had only seen in movies. It was nice. Too good, even. But you somehow made me believe.
In the winter of 2021, with the pandemic over our heads. One fight after another. A month of endless bickering. Crying every night. Secrets spilling. No one backing down. I wanted to detach from you until I could no longer feel anything. But you kneeled, and begged. Cried, and vowed to change. I was weak. Ignoring the only rational voice in my head, I agreed. Blinded by love, unconscious about your motive, I believed you. Like I always did. I held onto you, your potential, and your promise. Lost me thinking it would save us. But miracles, they never came.
We ignored each other the whole night. The next day, I was getting ready for work. I could swear my body hesitating to leave that day. I cried as I watch you still asleep on the couch. Tempted to check your phone, I stopped myself. Shook my head, and woke you up instead. I kissed you goodbye. And that was the last time I saw you before you completely shattered my heart.
“You were just like him—but worse.”
*
You finally came home to get your things. I heard the door unlocked, but I did not come to you. I was in the bathroom, washing my face, waiting for you to come to me. In this tiny house, it took only a few steps to get to each other. Our eyes met, you smiled, like you still wanted me. “I missed you,” a thought I did not say out loud. After a couple of days apart, without proper contact, I decided to pack your things. I thought it would help me get over you quicker. It did not. I guess, I just ended up helping you pack. I left four bags by the door. Probably the first thing you noticed. “Hug me, you jerk,” I had hoped the first thing you would do when you finally saw me. We sat on the bed as we talked. I looked at you as you speak. Your eyes were sad, but seemed more relieved. You looked like a boulder was lifted off of your shoulder. There was no remorse. No longing. You just wanted to get away. I could not stop my tears from falling. You planned all these. Like a carefully crafted crime that turned in your favor. You caused our ruin. Yet, on our last day, a peaceful night was what you got—so peaceful it soothed your guilt. You found another home.
*
In the beginning of 2022, you disappeared. As quickly as you came into my life. I wanted to erase every bit of you so badly. But every corner of this house was haunted by you.
(c)
