"It's not working anymore, Patrick." You sighed as you stood up from the bed the both of you shared.
He looked at you with innocent eyes. "What isn't?"
"Us," you sighed. "We're not working anymore."
"What? What do you mean?"
You were too afraid to tell him that-well, the love has faded. But you had to, sooner or later.
"I don't love you anymore."
-
A few years after that break up, you were still a mess. You didn't regret it, but felt guilty for not. After all, he probably felt the same way, didn't he?
A phone call interrupted the story you were writing. An unknown number. Must be a stalker.
"Hello, may I please talk to (Y/N) please?"
"She's here, who is it?"
"(Y/N)? Is that really you?"
"Who else would I be? Who is this?"
An awkward silence fell between the conversation. Just as you were about to hang up, the mysterious guy spoke up and broke the ice.
"It's me, Patrick. Look, I know you've probably forgotten about me. But I just want to know that without you in my life, I'm nothing. I have nothing."
"You're acting like I took everything from you. We're already over, our love doesn't exist anymore."
Truth is, you still loved him all this time. Sounds cliché, but true.
"But YOU'RE my everything."