It's been exactly four days since we last spoke.
Four days since we wiped tears from our eyes from our shared pain.
96 hours since the biggest fight we've ever had.
The last time we got mad at the other, we didn't talk for months.
You said that it was my fault that it happened.
And I won't deny that.
We lost five years today.
Five years of the best and worst times of my life.
And it's killing me not to hear your voice right now.
It's a struggle to not reach for the phone and dial your number.
Each time I have to remind myself that we're not talking anymore.
And I don't want you to forget that you and I have always pushed through.
Four days ago, we yelled at each other over the phone , angrily texted our sides, cried and threw our hands in the air in front of the other.
We took a breath and tried to find a way to make it better and we couldn't agree on a solution.
So I walked away and every step I took was an effort.
And for every breath I dragged in my lungs, I watched my walls start to collapse around me.
And for every conversation I remembered, I heard my world begin to break and splinter.
And every day that passes, the hole inside of me grows a little bigger and painful.
It's a hard process to get my head and heart to be quiet when I'm trying to sleep at night.
It's been four days since I heard your voice and felt your hands wipe away my tears.
And today will be as hard as the ones before.