My mouth smelled like him. It wasn’t sexy or nostalgic or endearing this time. I left in the morning, sad that I had to feel what I did in order to understand it was time to end things.
His brother had to open the door for me, 1am, blue dress, makeup up smudged, security by my side. I was not okay with that.
I felt ashamed, a pile of regret, and tiny, oh how tiny I felt. I wouldn’t wish that moment upon anyone. I couldn’t even shake the memories off the next day. Or the days after. I closed my eyes and delved in. Over and over. Unanswered phone call, security, apartment door, his brother. Feeling the weight of misery, a cloudy mind, pounding, clenching in the pit of my stomach. The tears poured out of my heart. It was awful. It killed any pride I had left.
I had nothing left. Nothing of me left.