I let the rain wash away my tears, wishing it could wash all of me away. Do you remember how much I loved the rain?
Is that what you’re thinking of now: my face alight as we set out candles with the power out, sitting at the dining room table in front of the big window, sipping tea?
Because I remember that all too well. And I think about it way too much.
What hurts isn’t that you’ve left—I know how lost you were; unable to tend to me let alone yourself.
What hurts isn’t seeing your dining room light on, sitting at what used to be our table, with a girl who isn’t me, sipping your favorite tea while she holds a near-empty wine glass.
What hurts the most is that you stopped wanting to have those moments with me.
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This touched me. I know there are other people it will resonate with as well.