the night, I stayed in my bedroom letting the darkness swallow me and crying until I fell asleep. The next morning I woke up to a silent bedroom. I rolled over to my side and checked my phone.
“No messages…” All the emotions I felt yesterday started to come back and it was taking a toll on me.
I didn't leave my room unless it was for food or to use the bathroom. I kept thinking about what I could have ever done that made him lie to me. Hours turned to days, days to weeks.
It's not like anyone cared because I had no one. After I turned 18 my parents kicked me out and I was on my own. I had to get my own money, food, apartment and job. As far as friends I didn't have many, but the ones I did have were all grown up and getting into serious relationships of their own. I had thrown myself into this one. The only person I really had left was him.
The next week it was the same thing. I didn't leave my room until that Thursday when my doorbell rang. I ignored it because it was probably the mailman, but when it kept ringing I rolled out of bed
and quickly went downstairs. I opened the door and there he was--the love of my life.
“Where the hell have you been? Like you really thought you was going to get away with that crap you pulled?!” I kept yelling in his face and hitting him until he attempted to try to hold my hands.
“NO! Don't you dare touch me.”
“Look. I understand you are furious at me and probably don't want to see or talk to me ever again, but please let me explain myself.” I just stared at him with hatred in my eyes. I honestly didn't even want to have a conversation with him, but on the other hand I did want to know why he just did me dirty.
“You have five minutes to explain yourself.”
“Alright,” he grabbed my hands and held them tightly as he let out a deep sigh.
“Just say it.”