“but the thing is,” you were saying then, and i had it all stamped in my brain, in a little file that from time to time, would jump before me; replaying all the events i had tried to erase, again and again and again.
“i feel nothing.” your voice, like i remembered, was so worn out, so -- so void of emotion that for a second i thought that this was our goodbye although knowing you, you’d have never speared me that goodbye, no. for you were selfish, really; you hid the truth between the lines and you knew so very well that i did not like it, when you were saying something but hinting at something else.
and perhaps, if i had to be really honest with you, your flaw got you trashed and stomped on. you always traveled the whole universe in a couple of moments just to get something out.
and i ought have known that that day, was our goodbye -- you were not just gazing into space and stuffing me with your obstacles or your can of worms like you always did when your heart was brimmed to the top and you worried that you’d throw it up, no. you were telling me that you had stopped loving me and how you just woke up one day and said that to me was beyond me, still is.
i mused over it a lot, and i still do, when in the middle of the night, my thoughts are in every corner of what used to be our home but **** you, for i can still not feel the home i felt when you were embracing me in your tight secured arms and **** you. could you just not have done it that way? because even though you loved and you lived for the suspense, you became one hell of a mystery too, darling, and i do not like it one bit. was it so hard for you, to look me in the eyes and just tell me -- be straightforward about it, like a sharp knife piercing through my heart, darling i have stopped loving you.