Freak In You (18+)

35 | Memories

♱Recommended song: 2AM By SZA♱

New York was just how I had left it.

The streets were as busy as ever.

And everyone lining them seemed to be off to their next destination.

The excited buzz that I used to adore, didn't feel the same.

Instead, it felt... annoying.

Annoying that people were excited and happy when I couldn't bring myself to be.

All I could think about was our conversation.

Noa and I's conversation—the one we had before I left.

It played on a loop in my head, and I even found myself wishing that I had said something different.

I laughed slightly to myself, as if anything different would've changed her mind.

I mean, clearly, it wouldn't have.

She had her mind made up the moment she began the conversation.

I honestly don't even know why I tried.

Seriously, why did I put myself out there?

In the moment it felt like I was fighting for her.

But what if she wasn't there to be fought for to begin with?

What we had was clearly gone the moment she made her final decision.

And what made it hurt worse was that I didn't get a say in it.

That she could just snap her fingers and send me away—and there I'd go.

It made me feel powerless.

It made me yearn for the control I used to have.

I mean, I used to be the one sending people away.

An empty sigh escaped my lips as I entered the familiar apartment building, forcing a smile to the concierge who held the door open for me.

I glanced around the shiny lobby, imagining what life would've looked like for me and Noa here.

How our visits would've gone...

Would she stay for long periods at a time? Or maybe she'd fly in every other week.

I could see us walking the streets of New York, looking for our next adventure as we walked hand in hand.

Or maybe even making dinner in my kitchen—me hovering over the stove while Noa set the table.

Our nights would be filled with the most beautiful lovemaking before we'd grab some of the leftovers we had made and sat down to watch a movie.

I blinked the burning tears away, hating how well I could see our lives colliding together.

And I wanted it all—the good times and the bad times.

Like dreading going back to my apartment after she had left to head back to New Orleans.

Or the lonely nights when the only piece of her I could get would be through the phone.

Even the bad times sounded appealing right now—they sounded better than no times at all.

I clenched my jaw, hoping to push my sadness away as the elevator shot up to my level.

It just all feels like such a waste of time and energy—I seriously shouldn't have gotten my feelings involved.

Not with it all ending up like this.