I remember waking up next to you in the mornings, our fingers intertwined under your covers. The door would always be open, the thin curtains pushed back so that the sunlight would caress our skin until we awoke.
I remember your call when I was admitted to the hospital. Hearing your choked out sobs, the words of fear and devotion and love spilling from both of our lips.
I remember the tears we both shed after endless movie nights snuggled together in your basement. We’d fall asleep together on the floor, our bodies fused together under a mountain of blankets and stuffed animals that we shared.
I remember the feeling of your arms around me as I cried out in the dark... you swore that it was all okay and that you loved me, that things would get better in time...
God did I love you. I loved you with every single ******* fibre of my being, yet somehow that wasn't good enough. Somehow, 10 years of total devotion to you was not enough. Yet somehow you made it my fault, and I loved you so much that I let myself believe that it was true, thinking it would keep you by my side.
I still remember the day that you left me. The tears ran down my face like a river as you said goodbye to me for the last time. Your name tumbled out of my lips, a desperate plea for you to come back...
Four years later, and you’re still not sorry...
four years later, and I still am.