I can't formulate a single concrete thought. I am pressured to feel one single emotion, and I am flooded with the salty ocean. It was my decision to cut you from my life, to cut the umbilical cord that traveled from my heart to your soul. You could no longer fill my lungs and my life with your love, with your sweet smile and tender voice. I was, for once, giddy to come home to just me. To cook a meal and laugh alone, hearing it echo against the wood floors. I came and went as I pleased, I answered to no one. I foolishly became aware that the world was so much bigger than me, than you, than this.
And then there was a message. A message that traveled from ones mouth to my ear. And then there were tears. I was single and I was strong and I was ready. Ready for change, ready for movement, ready to look into someone else's eyes and say I love you. But there was a message. I found out you were leaving. And then I knew past the horizon, past the furthest mark that I could see, would lie the mourning.
I saw you. It was everything I didn't think it would be. You were different but still the same, and so was I. Too much happened that night. And I am left with a heavy bag of cotton. I wasn't supposed to cry. You weren't supposed to kiss my head and ask to hug me and then not let go. Some loves just never die. This moment will stitch the cut that severed our relationship. But for right now, this moment has left blood all over the floor. What a mess.
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