It took three days.
It took three days for him to open the door, and see me.
I was a mess.
I was laying naked in damp sheets, with tangled hair, and smeared make-up.
He dropped everything, and ran to my side.
He said my name over and over again.
He took my face in his hands, and smoothed my hair back.
That's when reality came back.
Everything became painful.
Hearing, seeing, living.
Breathing, thinking, existing.
My eyes fill with tears, and I start to sob.
He takes me in his arms, and I collapse.
All I feel is the guilt.
All I feel is the blame.
YOU ARE READING
In Pieces
Short StoryI didn't want to destroy him. I was afraid I would break him into pieces. And add him to the list of people I've broken. There's too many on that list. Too many.
