Number 1

Crying

I was crying. not the elegant kind that glistens in the moonlight, but the uncontrollable kind that stains the soul. I was crying when I walked away from you. But I knew I couldn't look back, for fear that your eyes would pull me back into the cloudburst of my shattered love.

I could feel my heart ripping apart, each step announcing the shattering of what we once had. But I knew I couldn't look back—not even a glance over my shoulder. because in your eyes, I would find a tempest, a storm that threatened to pull me back into the chaos of our love that turned into ruins.

The trees were wet with rain, just like the tacks of tears on my cheeks. I walked away, not daring to turn around, afraid that if I caught a glimpse of you, I would crumble down to pieces again. The memories, the laughter, the shared dreams—all of them drowned in the flood of your goodbye.

The city lights were blurry through my tears, a real pain in the eyes. Every step was like a funeral march, each one a thud in the chest, a digre for the love we buried, and a goodbye that hurt more than it should. The echoes of our memories haunted me, mocking the silence that filled the gap between us.

The streetlamps flickered like they were about to give up, like dying candles, casting long shadows on the road ahead. And in that darkness, I felt the weight of our promises breaking and the heaviness of saying goodbye setting on my shoulders. I carried the pain of our broken-up love, a burden that felt too heavy to bear.

I reached the end of the street, the intersection where our paths drifted apart. The rain fell harder, as if the sky itself were crying for what we lost. I stopped, standing alone in the downpour, soaked through and through and broken inside.

With a heavy heart, I whispered goodbye into the night, hoping it would be carried away by the wind. But deep down, I knew that our farewell was stamped into the universe, a mark on the canvas of time. The rain washed away the traces of my love for you, leaving only the raw pain of an ending that no amount of tears could fix.

And as I walked away, the distant thunder echoed the sureness of us breaking apart. The storm raged on, a real sad song, and I disappeared into the night, leaving behind the wreckage of what was once us. The world moved on, indifferent to the wreck I left behind, not giving a damn about the scars on my face, and I was left to wonder in the aftermath of what we used to call love—the city where dreams go to die.