When you left....

When you left my heart broke. It was shattered like the tiles beneath your wrecked body.

Blood and tears mixed together as I wept; you bled. I screamed; you slept. I stayed rooted to your side; you left.

“You loved me?”

“You chose her.”

It was final when you left. The flat stood still, the dust thickened, and silence settled over the seemingly abandoned rooms. Yet I stayed – too attached to what it represented – attached to the memories inscribed on the walls. I knew your favourite chair, I knew your favourite mug, I knew your favourite programme.

I stayed by the empty, unsaid promises you left behind. I hoped you would return to me, broken and bruised but alive. I needed you then, when the darkness settled, when the days all rolled into one undefinable fog. I needed your reassurance. Your sarcasm. Your smile.

I was left with the memory of the blood.

The silence was somewhat comforting. When you were here you hardly spoke a word, hardly made a sound. At the time I resented it. How could a human being be so embroiled in something and zone out for hours? You wouldn’t eat for days, wouldn’t sleep until you finished. And you were so easily agitated. But I kept you alive. I gave you food and dragged you to bed. I loved you.

I never said it then.

It hurt too much to remember.

So I hid from reality.

It was only when my mother found me, did I begin to venture back out into the world. At first it was dark, lonely, desolate. Void of all hope and happiness I had once know it to possess. But maybe, the world was always this way- the only thing that changed was your absence.

She held my hand as you once did.

On that cold and icy winters day, when London was covered in the softest blanket of crystallized flakes. Oh, how you hated it! You grumbled and muttered under the familiar blue scarf you wrapped around your neck, hiding as much of your face as you could. You remarked how impractical it was, how dangerous, how bland. But as I smiled, gazing over the horizon, glistening under the faint traces of sunlight – you thought I didn’t notice your stare. Your eyes that filled with wonder, warmth, love. But now I realise, your gaze was fixed on something other than the sky…

I missed you then, more than ever.

While I expected the flat to seem bare, I never dreamt the world would seem so bleak. So meaningless. But there I was, now standing on a grey street in London, listening to the thunderous roars of car horns, shouting people, and the overall sound of life. Now it was missing so many important things. So much had changed. Yet the world kept turning, people continued to live their lives, and they sang, and they danced, and they loved. How could something so alive feel so barren?

I was dead inside.

When you left, a piece of me did too. Because after all this time I couldn’t possibly leave your side. Not even the unprecedented abyss could keep me from you. But if that left me dead, why didn’t you come back?

It took months before I could visit. I could walk to the bus stop, wait, just long enough to change my mind and return home. I knew where you were. I just could make myself go.

There were to many things left unsaid. Too many empty promises. Too many unspoken truths.

I needed you.

But you left.

Then I found her. A beautiful mysterious woman, who spoke with such wonder and passion about the word and all the beautiful things in it. She was kind. She was beautiful. She was exceptional. She reminded me of you in that way.

She taught me to look at the stars with admiration. She pushed me to see the beauty in all the desolate things you hated. She dragged me out of the hole I had dug to keep us together. She opened my eyes; I didn’t need you anymore.

She brought me back to life.

And we sang. And we Danced. And we loved.

So I asked her to marry me.

You had left me… so I moved on.

I found my happiness with her. And we had so much fun; Singing, dancing, living. I was a new person now I was with her, a better person, a brighter person. I loved living. I loved her. And for the first time in years, I loved myself.

Until you returned.

Blood was spilt the day you came back. Your sorrowful eyes void of empathy. Your smirk laced with pride. Was it pride with what you done? Pride for hurting me so bad? Pride for functioning in my absence?

Only a machine could be so calculating. So cruel.

How could you leave me? Turn your back and never look back? Why did you do it? How could you do it? How!

You prided yourself on being so clever.

And you hurt me in the process.

Did you expect to pick things up where we left them? Was I supposed to forget the empty hearse? The blood. The tears.

I bet you weren’t expecting me to have moved on. But I was strong enough to move on. I even moved out of the flat. You didn’t expect that, did you? You didn’t expect to be coming back to an empty flat. A flat that was silent and covered in thick dust. Dust that had settled over the furniture, your favourite chair. Your favourite chair that had been abandoned.

Yet you wanted my forgiveness. My sympathy. My help?

You begged. And I suppose in the end you knew me too well.

I forgave you.

In the months that followed; I’d imagine you’d remember them well; you helped us plan the wedding. We chose the cakes together, the wines together, the colours together. For the first time in years, we were together again – I guess this wasn’t what you imagined.

Did you imagine your own wedding? Our wedding? Would it have been the same?

She told me you were scared when we were alone. When I went to bed that night and got under the covers to join her, she looked me in the eyes and told me you were scared. Scared that what we had was over. But what I told her was the truth, no matter how difficult of a truth it was; we were never more than what we are now. Friends.

Because you left.

I used to say the best day of my life was the day I met you, but now, looking over my shoulder as she walks down the aisle, it changed. My wedding day, marrying her, was the best day of my life. Her smile, her warm eyes, her transparent love – so different to yours.

I realise then, I love you.

And when we danced, exactly how you taught me, my mind morphed her smile into yours, her kind eyes into yours, her love…

You loved me. You always did.

When you returned you helped us with the wedding. When you returned, we danced behind closed doors. You said you would teach me how to dance, but we both now that’s not what It was. You took my hand in yours, pulling me closer to you. You put your hand on my waist, you dragged it down as low as ‘appropriate’ would allow. We danced. Our feet moved in sync as I began to understand, stepping on your feet a lot less. Then, before I could know what was happening, you span me around and dipped me, leaning down over me, staring into my eyes.

My heart stopped. It was the step that was never taken. You glazed down at me, opened mouthed and shocked at our position. The wedding slipped my mind. My arm went up to catch your neck to steady myself more, as your hand gripped my back.

I remember you leaning down, close enough that I could feel your breath on my neck. I could feel nothing but you, could think of nothing but you, wanted nothing but you.

Your lips moved against my ear, soft lips, and warm breath.

This was the step that was never taken.

I knew I wasn’t thinking properly, but how could I? You were right here, so very, very close. I was in a trace that you created, consumed by your aura, your smell, your body…

“This is when you kiss her,”

You broke the spell.

This time, when I span her around and dipped her, it didn’t feel the same. I remembered the rehearsals- with you – this wasn’t the same. MY heart didn’t beat uncontrollably, my brain didn’t fog, my smile didn’t feel as genuine.

I kissed her.

I saw your heartbreak over my shoulder.

But when we had danced, slowly, we never touched that way. Now I wish we had. I needed to compare, I needed to know if I was making the right choice. Did I love her more than I loved you?

Do I still?

I don’t know why I feel this way. I don’t know if you feel the same.

All I know,

Is that you left the wedding early,

And I

Don’t think

I’m in love

With the

Bride.