I always thought that I was cut out for all that happened. Three and a half years of pain and inconsistent happiness - I thought I was ready. As soon as you left my life, I was not sure as to what I was supposed to do. If you're asking why, then here's your answer.
You - You were a part of my daily routine. The first person I would talk to in the morning, and the last one that I would think of at night.
Please don't hate me for saying that line. I can feel you rolling your eyes and shuddering even if you won't ever get to read this. Ha-ha.
Anyway, I realized a few things during those constant answer-seeking nights. I was stupid - so stupid that I did not care about myself. Not until I've had enough of your miserable shit and incredible lack of sympathy, had I realized that I exhausted myself too much from giving every single drop of my fucking sweat and tears.
But you know what, L? It was foreign. Not having to care for you felt like it was something I never did before we happened.
Was there even a "we" to begin with? Maybe it was just all me.
YOU ARE READING
A Case of You
Teen FictionWhatever you can call this thing; a document, a diary, a journal or whatever – this, is about you. Such serendipitous memories of what we used to be lives in this paper.
