Rio took a sip from her mug, then jolted away at the shock of cold tea on her tongue. As she peered down at the liquid swirling sullenly in the base of the cup, it became apparent that she had left it out overnight.
Overthinking had never really been a habit of hers until recently. There was never any time to think; she was always caught up in the whirlwind that was romance. A bitter smile twitched onto her face at the thought, and Rio set her mug back onto the windowsill. A whirlwind was a rather a strange way to describe something that had felt so safe. When in love, Rio felt protected, yet not guarded; and warm, yet not burning. It was incredible.
But then, he had simply left her. Suddenly, he was gone, with only a wavering smile and a few words that could only be translated as 'It's not you; it's me.' It was stupid. He was stupid.
Yet the shadows that drifted across the armchair opposite Rio — his armchair — as the morning sun rose made his presence feel tangible, yet not quite touchable; a ghost whispering notes of laughter in his charming tone. It felt like a piece of Rio was away from her body, like she'd lost an arm or a leg — or, more accurately, like she'd lost a piece of her heart. It left a hole inside of her, and it felt lonely and empty and bitter all at the same time.
Karma was like a fire warming her heart, but flames flicker and die, and anything once encased by them is destroyed, then left with the dirty ash.
It was obvious really, now that Rio looked back on it, that their relationship was burning out. While Karma and Rio had bonded quickly through their middle school years, they were both a mess of insecure emotions, constantly fighting with themselves and each other, despite the fact that neither of them were totally aware of such a situation. It had started so sweetly, and ended only with bitterness. In hindsight, anything between those two states was a waste of time.
However, Rio never had much time for hindsight. If she had time for hindsight, then that left far too much room for regret, and thinking over past regrets made Rio's lungs feel blocked and congested, until there was little room left for oxygen.
In the beginning, every word Karma spoke felt like a firework in Rio's chest. There would be a spark, then the spark would shoot upwards and explode in a spectacle.
Towards the end, it had hurt — it had really hurt. Every word Karma spoke felt like fireworks still, but Rio no longer felt the excitement; all she felt was the burn. The long, slow burn that travelled through her body until it reached her heart and destroyed it at the sound of just a few words:
"Give up on me; I can't make you happy."
I'll never forget you, Karma, and you'll never forget me. We'll just fade into the background of each other's lives, until we're just a smear of paint on a piece that could've been perfect.
I wish you the best, Karma.
I love you.