Original fic
This is my second entry for brigits_flame July round. The prompt this time is "It hurts when I do this".
Thank you to everyone who was kind enough to comment last time :)
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I love you, Sarah.
Our relationship had lasted six months.
Six blissful months and not a shadow of doubt, unhappiness or anger. I had spent six months waking up every day with a smile on my face and now I spent every night crying myself to sleep.
I felt like it was all my fault. After all, I was the one who had moved away - who had moved back home because I couldn’t afford to live in the city anymore. And home meant living several hours away from him, a plane flight away from him that neither of us could afford on a regular basis.
It’s not like I wasn’t ever coming back. I would have eventually. Nonetheless, everything had become complicated and uncertain - and that uncertainty drove him away. He couldn’t wait for me, it was too tough not knowing when we’d see each other again and so he broke it off.
I love you, but I can’t do this anymore.
He barely kept in touch.
I guess maybe it was too hard. I cried for a month and when I eventually found out he had moved on, I cried some more. I tried to move on as well; throw myself into work, meet some new people, keep myself occupied every single minute of every day so I wouldn’t have to think about him.
However, none of it mattered when I went to sleep at night. The memories of us always found a way to creep back into my mind. It wasn’t just the memories as well, it was the photos, the videos, the gifts I had received for my birthday and Christmas and the belongings he had left with me inadvertently.
I would look at them and they would bring back memories and feelings I thought I had forgotten. They would bring back the joy and the pain.
I can’t stand not being able to see you everyday like it used to be.
I haven’t heard from him in months, but I am still aware of the small details of his life through the gossip. What he does now doesn’t really matter to me anymore. The only thing I want to know is if he still thinks about me, if I still appear in his dreams - if he misses me like I miss him. I never ask though; it wouldn’t be right. No one knows that I still care.
I try not to give him much thought, but every now and then, I happen to open the wrong file on my computer or I look inside the wrong drawer of my dresser, and there they are - the memories of him and us.
I find myself staring at the photos, smiling to myself as I remember our holiday at the beach. I can’t help but watch the videos of us together, happy and giggling like idiots. I still inhale the t-shirt he once left behind even if the scent of his aftershave has disappeared long ago.
Simple things that make my heart ache and bring tears to my eyes - and even though I know the agony that will follow if I let myself be caught up in the memories, I still won’t get rid of them. I still keep everything because that’s all I have left now.
It hurts when I let myself remember - it hurts like hell. And yet, I still won’t let him go.
I love you, Sarah, but it’s just too damn hard.
--
Thank you to everyone who was kind enough to comment last time :)
--
I love you, Sarah.
Our relationship had lasted six months.
Six blissful months and not a shadow of doubt, unhappiness or anger. I had spent six months waking up every day with a smile on my face and now I spent every night crying myself to sleep.
I felt like it was all my fault. After all, I was the one who had moved away - who had moved back home because I couldn’t afford to live in the city anymore. And home meant living several hours away from him, a plane flight away from him that neither of us could afford on a regular basis.
It’s not like I wasn’t ever coming back. I would have eventually. Nonetheless, everything had become complicated and uncertain - and that uncertainty drove him away. He couldn’t wait for me, it was too tough not knowing when we’d see each other again and so he broke it off.
I love you, but I can’t do this anymore.
He barely kept in touch.
I guess maybe it was too hard. I cried for a month and when I eventually found out he had moved on, I cried some more. I tried to move on as well; throw myself into work, meet some new people, keep myself occupied every single minute of every day so I wouldn’t have to think about him.
However, none of it mattered when I went to sleep at night. The memories of us always found a way to creep back into my mind. It wasn’t just the memories as well, it was the photos, the videos, the gifts I had received for my birthday and Christmas and the belongings he had left with me inadvertently.
I would look at them and they would bring back memories and feelings I thought I had forgotten. They would bring back the joy and the pain.
I can’t stand not being able to see you everyday like it used to be.
I haven’t heard from him in months, but I am still aware of the small details of his life through the gossip. What he does now doesn’t really matter to me anymore. The only thing I want to know is if he still thinks about me, if I still appear in his dreams - if he misses me like I miss him. I never ask though; it wouldn’t be right. No one knows that I still care.
I try not to give him much thought, but every now and then, I happen to open the wrong file on my computer or I look inside the wrong drawer of my dresser, and there they are - the memories of him and us.
I find myself staring at the photos, smiling to myself as I remember our holiday at the beach. I can’t help but watch the videos of us together, happy and giggling like idiots. I still inhale the t-shirt he once left behind even if the scent of his aftershave has disappeared long ago.
Simple things that make my heart ache and bring tears to my eyes - and even though I know the agony that will follow if I let myself be caught up in the memories, I still won’t get rid of them. I still keep everything because that’s all I have left now.
It hurts when I let myself remember - it hurts like hell. And yet, I still won’t let him go.
I love you, Sarah, but it’s just too damn hard.
--