Vent/Personal Stories

The Loss of a Lover

I sit in bed quietly, crying into the pillow that I hold onto. I don't know why I'm still using this pillow. It was given to me by him, but he's been gone for a long time now.

His name was James. A handsome Irishman, with bright red hair, that the tips were dyed black. Shining blue eyes, and the happiest smile you could ever hope to see on the person you loved. He was never sad, and he always knew exactly how to cheer me up.

I was devastated when I found out what happened to him. That he would no longer be by my side. No longer comfort me when I feel down, or share my joy when I was happy. I remember back to the first day I met him.

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I looked over to the boy across the room from me, and blushed when he turned around as if he knew I was staring.
I quickly looked away when he did, and focused back on my paper.

He whispered something to his friend next to him, and got up and walked over to me.

"Hi," he stated simply, standing in front of my table.

"H-Hi... Sorry for st-staring..." I stutter out, and I quietly put my head down. I tug at the edge of my hoodie sleeves, trying to hide what's there.

"Oh... You're fine," He says, smiling, "Are you alright?"

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, a very light rose color on his cheeks. I nod quickly, trying to smile through all of the sadness that I feel, but it falters, and my eyes tear up. He quickly pulls over a chair and sits next to me, putting his arm on my shoulder as I start crying into my hoodie.

"I don't know why they do it," I say sniffling, my voice sounding disgusting because of the crying, "what did I do to deserve this?"

"Hey, talk to me," he said caringly, "what's going on?"

I shake my head, not wanting to burden him with my stupid problems. He stares into my eyes and uses his thumb to wipe the tears from my cheeks. Blushing, I smile a bit and decide to tell him what happened.

"I was dating this guy, and he decided-" I break down again, subconsciously leaning against him, but I pushed through and tried to finish what I was saying, "he decided it would be best if he loved someone else, while supposedly loving me."

He purses his lips and rubs his left hand in circles on my back, looking lost in thought.

"I don't know why someone would think it was okay to break your heart," he says shaking his head, "you are too beautiful."

When I realise what he says, I blush a bright red, and look away from him wiping my eyes. When I do, he quickly writes something down on a piece of paper, and hands it to me. I look at it after he stands up and leaves, and it's a little drawing of a kitten, with a phone number.

It says,

'Call me later, or text me if you want to talk.'

I smile at the kitten and put the paper in my pocket.

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I sob into the pillow even harder as I remember how kind he was, and how sweet he was to me when we first met. I smile sadly as I remember that he used to call me his 'little kitten'. And not in a sexual way. He said I reminded him of a lost kitten with no home to go to. Reminded him of a little ball of fur, that enjoys cuddling and is content with being around just one person, as long as that person truely cares for them.