She closed the door to her apartment. Tried to exhale slowly, failing. Breaking down, tears starting to flow down her cheeks. Tears which she held back the last hours, week, month and every moment since she saw him last. When he broke her heart and she threw his things out of her home that used to be theirs. That day, ending with him leaving after begging her to let him in, explain. And her, sobbing behind the closed door, craving nothing more than letting him back in while trying to ignore his confessions of love. Her being unbending because she was good in that. Only to end up utterly exhausted today, not having enough strength to brace up even slightly. A hot pain flashed through her chest, her hand automatically shooting up to cover it from the outside. She tried to resist the urge to sink to the floor, instead leaning against the cold wall. Her breathing heavy, strands of in the morning so perfectly done hair sticking to her tear-stained face. But she was too tired to pay attention. Slowly making her way up the stairs, her slim body feeling heavier with every step.
To finally end up in her bedroom, her vision blurry from crying. Her trembling fingers trying to get discarded of her expensive clothes, not caring to fold them. Not today. Avoiding the mirror she slipped into an oversized shirt to finally sink into bed. Curling up at her side, as if there was someone else who needed the space beside her. Closing her eyes that were burning from all the tears she shed before and those that she never will. Her breath slowly going back to normal. Senses instinctively searching for life apart from her own, finding none. Grieving for his presence because she knew for certain that he was not coming back. That the door will not suddenly fly open, revealing his outlines that she was acquainted with so well. There was no possibility that he will sneak into the room, slide under the blanket and snuggle up to her. His warm breath caressing her sensitive skin. Fingers searching for hers to intertwine them. No whispered words exchanged, only her stilled breathing, barely audible in the dark room. A high-pitched whimper escaped her and she flinched, horrified by her own voice. Resisting the urge to turn around, not sure if she would be able to bear the emptiness next to her. And so she stayed in her current position, knees brought high up to her chest, hands in the nape of her neck. Feeling drained and still wondering if she would be able to sleep that night. Her thoughts haunting her, screaming out his name, spilling memories.
This was just one of those days. One of her weak. Hours in which she let herself be human. In which she had to admit, that somehow, somewhere buried deep within her, she still loved him. Missed him even more. And possibly always will.