I fight to contain my tears. The door is wide open, I can hear them talking outside. But I can’t help it. I can’t keep it in this long. Someone just passed, I look up, smile. The tears still in place. I can’t help it. I think of him and burst into tears. Thoughts race in my head, a thousand memories. A thousand more. Feels like an eternity together, and the end of. A quarter of my life I spent, with him.
We fought dozens upon dozens of times, but not that time. We always made up, except that time. It was unprompted, to him. I was contemplating it for months.
Did I do the right thing? It does not matter. Not one bit. No, because it’s too late. All hope, for anything, absolutely anything, is absolutely obliterated. By me, solely. My chest heaves at that thought, my heart clenches. Emotions so indefinite yet so familiar strangle me, taunt me, daunt me, loom around my head, attacking: ‘It’s all your fucking fault.’ I scream, it echoes unheard.
A quarter of my life I frittered, with him.
My mind is drained. My eyes impassive. I am unmoved.
No tears anymore.