But I actually don’t even smoke and today I started crying, because I remembered that we had talked about buying an electric toothbrush together, and now you’ve moved out. I had imagined to be the one who would have left the apartment, but instead it’s you. Because I’m not the one who disappeared, the pain is overpoweringly preset everywhere. it’s in the toothbrush, which is not electric, in our home, on the streets, in my dreams. I loved the way you said my name.
It’s my own fault, I know. I haven’t given you what you needed. i was too restless. Too flighty. That’s who I am. It’s not who I want to be, but it’s who I am. You said it was one of the personality traits, that you fell for, but now it’s also what made you leave me. There are so many things, I would have done differently, if I could, but I can’t. I miss you so much that my heart touches my skin.
I don’t need a perfect relationship, I just need someone who won’t give up on me.
I had always imagined that I would do it. Break up. Naked, I’d stand by the window, smoking a cigarette, while the long white curtain would get caught by the wind and caress my thighs. Thoughtfully I would look out of the window at the quiet morning, where the sun would be rising behind the ocean. I always enjoyed the sunrise from our bedroom window. You’d be lying in the bed, we just fucked. In the past month I’ve been distant, and when I say that it’s over, you know that I mean it. Later I pack my things and disappear, the cigarette has been left in the ashtray by the window, the smell of me is still hanging in the room, but you know that in a few weeks it will be gone and only in your dreams, you’ll be able to remember it. That’s how i had imagined it would be.
It’s 4 in the morning and the bed has never felt this empty.