I was terrified out of my mind that someday you might leave me. Now my fears have come true and I’m more alone that I was before. You’ve even interrupted my flow of words with those strong hands that you were supposed to hold me with. You were supposed to. You pinky promised as we were sitting on that stone wall and now I’m terrified that I’ll never love anyone the way I loved you. Because you were my pearl, my one-of-a-kind and for a split-second of Connor-induced insanity I actually believed that you were my soul mate. That we could take on the world together. And why can’t I feel anything? You stole my emotions when you stole my kisses and now you have them curled up in your fist and you’re not letting go. But I thought you would never let go of me. You stole our sunset for yourself and you made me believe that it would always be ours. I hate the way I trusted you. I hate the way you stole my tears so I can’t even cry.
But I don’t hate you.
~

That sadness hasn’t lost its lung-crushing clamp on my heart. Not yet. I’m not ready to fall back into someone else’s arms and I’m terrified that I never will be. Because I could never imagine being held the same way by anyone else, ever. Your hands fit perfectly on me and they belong in mine. My skin was imprinted by the circles and spirals in the texture of yours. But you’re so far away and I don’t know what you’re thinking anymore. Maybe I never did. But I do remember the way your green eyes shone in the moonlight and I remember every minute detail of every grain of sand between my toes. It’s those little things that break me, bit by bit, until I crumble at your feet. Because I thought I meant more than that to you. I thought I would be the one to break you but all along you were feeding me lies and promises that
You would be here forever.
So much for that.

I feel like I need to purge you from my system, like I need to pour you out of me and detox the ghost of you from under my skin. Because your rose is gone but the thorns remain inside of me. I’m choking on the memory of the words you said, gasping and sputtering and drowning and the water is rising, rising, rising, with your hand on the faucet.
You promised that you’d be here forever.
~

You told me to follow my dreams, that I am the strongest person you know and that I will be a dancer in New York City. But I won’t be doing this with you. So I’ll jump into this would of lights and concrete and the city walls will echo the walls established around my heart. I will be successful so I can put a bandaid on all the places you pierced me with your fingertips. And maybe, maybe if I drown myself long enough in city noise and dance-filled dreams, maybe if I find a replacement for you, maybe if I stop remembering you and the photographs fade to grainy black and white, the radiance of the blue sky dulled, maybe if I stop needing your oxygen...
Maybe I won’t need to breathe anymore.