Same Eternal Pattern

CHAPTER 22

It's gone. He's gone. All the memories we built together haunt me while I lay in the same bed where we were ourselves. I guess they just don't matter anymore. All the knowledge I had about him has become some useless and painful ideas inside my mind. I turn to his side, hiding my face against the pillow, unconsciously seeking his presence in some way to fill the void in my chest. The tears wet the cushion, but I can't stop them. I try to calm myself, I try to fight down more tears from falling but still, my breathing is shaken.

I try to explain myself what happened. I go over every moment trying to figure out which reason he had to break up. From which moment everything went to shit. However, I don't seem to find it.

Everything was way too good to be true, so I guess we were always meant to say goodbye. Even though, we started with the perfect kiss, we were never meant to work it out right. The mere thought breaks me with a sob. Shit, I need to stop. If I still love him, I have to love him enough to let him go. I didn't get into this to hurt him, or to hurt myself, even though, I don't even know what I did to make him rethink our relationship. The realization hits when I understand that he didn't give us any chance to fight against whatever was wrong. He didn't, and I was blinded to see where we were getting into.

Nothing prepared me for him to enter my life. He just did. And like a fool I fell for him. I've got to know the privilege of being his. I've got to know how it feels his warmth and the shape of his lips. But now it was all gone, and sadly I knew, deep down, I would've waited for him the time it was needed. And it would've been worth it because I was in love.

Slowly, I lift my arm to get to my phone to see if there are some new messages. Nothing. The blank screen seems to mock me with zero notifications. Every planet seems to align to not even spam me with annoying reports from my apps.

The void in my chest doesn't seem to vanish. My throat feels sored. I would give everything to switch this feeling. If I could just halt this pain before it gets to break me further.

If I could just hear him pronouncing my name again.

My face is all wet, nonetheless, I dry it passing the palms of my hands over it. I take a deep breath trying to calm my aching heart. After a few minutes, I cease my brain to keep going on with the same thoughts. I need to get a grip. I remind myself that it was done. This story was over. I numb the pain. I obviate the memories that are trying to make me cave in again. I drown them deeper.

I get out of bed and I make my way to the kitchen. I need something stronger than tea to help me with the difficult task of forgetting.

I open the cupboard where I keep all the vessels with the intention to get a simple glass, but my focus gets lost the moment my eyes fix at something that shouldn't have fixed on. His cup.

I lose track of the time I spend just watching the cup. I feel like it's laughing at me. Like every fucking ridiculous drawing on it is shouting how stupid I've been. Images of Louis laughing while drinking tea on that same cup flashes through my head. Images of him on that same kitchen, on the bed, on the couch. The hole in my chest is here again. But this time, I refuse to cry, a fury raises through my insides making me grab the cup and throw it against the floor. The cup turns into little pieces the moment it hits the ground. Now, I'm not the only one who is broken.