Chapter 1

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We were both miserable. 

I felt numb but my heart ached. Was that even possible? 

With my back against the bedroom wall, the loose ends of my hair grazing my shoulder, I shifted. There was physical pain as well. I looked across the room when I saw a movement. With left leg stretched out, his right hand rested on his right knee. Head hung, he looked worn out as well.

Like I said, we were both miserable. 

The room was dark. The sun had gone to sleep outside. A sliver of light painted yellow from the living room drew a line on the carpeted floor. 

As I stared at the line so bright in contrast to the room, I saw him slowly rise. I watched him, from the corner of my eyes, hiding his tall thin body in his oversized hoodie and loose track pants. Without wasting any time he walked towards the door and pulled it open. The line grew into a semicircle of yellow as he paused.  

"Take care Amy," he said, before he walked out. 

I sat idle, for how many minutes, I didn't know. It might have been hours. Maybe days even. His voice, those words echoed inside my head. 

Take care, Amy.

Take care, Amy.

TAKE CARE, AMY.

Had he closed the front door? I didn't know, I couldn't remember hearing the sound. Had he left the apartment at all? Or was he still in the living room?

No, this time it was goodbye. I could feel it. I could feel it in each and every cell in my body. 

I could still remember that day at the library.

Those glasses. That oversized hoodie he used to wear all the time. His copy of 50 Greatest short stories. I had met someone who loved reading not because it meant more points in his resume, but because he genuinely liked to read.

His fluffy hair parted in the middle, his tall lanky posture and how much delay he had caused me waiting in line that day. I had made a noise out of annoyance and he turned back in a swift move to look at me. But the books in his hand had hit me and I fell onto the floor. He had apologized and treated me with a cup of coffee. He was very sweet. A week later we were going out. 

My head felt heavy and it was throbbing hard. My lips were dry. I sighed. And then it hit me. 

He was gone. It was all over. 

Tears started pouring down my eyes as my face scrunched up into an ugly cry. Had I not hated myself much before, looking in a mirror at that second would certainly show myself how ugly I would have been looking. 

I prayed, no, begged God to bring him back.

But no, it was all over.

I ran to the bathroom dragging my feet behind me. I couldn't think straight. I stopped crying and looked for something sharp. I wasn't thinking straight. When I found it, I raised it above my left wrist. I froze for a second and then cried for another. And then, I painted my wrist with a beautiful crimson line.

I dropped to the floor clutching my arm as tears wet my already wet cheeks. 

Our first meeting flashed before my eyes as the pain took over my brain. How I wished I could change the circumstances. One thing, anything. Just to make him stay… 

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