This is a sequel of my story Christmas Years Ago. It should be read first. If I remember I’ll put a link to it when it goes up, as I’m writing this two days before it goes up.
It’s boxing day and I still am alone in the apartment we used to share.
I can only think of one word to describe the emotion that overcomes every piece of me.
I long for how full the apartment felt with you always singing to cheesy pop music or a constant background noise of some videogame sound track.
When you were here there was never silence, now all that I can hear is my own heartbeat and the music I play as an attempt to block out my own thoughts.
I long for the times when I broke and you would help me pick up the pieces.
Now I have to fix things by myself.
I am weak and shattered and you are the only one who can put me back together.
I sit until the cd ends and I am left in silence.
I sit in my own pitiful bubble of regret for hours until my phone ringing interrupts my train of thought.
I pick it up, “Hello?”
“I didn’t think you’d answer.”
But you said you never wanted to hear my voice again.
And I deserve no less punishment than that.
“I’ll always answer”, I manage to croak out.
“I know. I am too.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“Of course I do”, you scoff, “I left.”
“You left because of me.”
“Because I was stupid and overreacted.”
“You overreacted about my mistakes.”
“Are we honestly going to argue over who needs to apologize when we both already did?” I can imagine you rolling your eyes as you say this.
“Sorry”, I mutter.
“God, stop apologizing. Anyways, my family talked some sense into me. We’ve both been under a lot of pressure lately and I think we both exploded.”
I can’t help bursting out into tears.
You don’t hate me.
“Please come home”, I sob.
“I’m already on my way.
“See you soon.”
“See you soon.”
I hang up, so you cant find out how much of a mess I am, and stand up to go compose myself, but before I can make it to the bathroom there’s a knock on the door.
It has to be.
No one else would come here.
I open the door and there you are.
Before I can overthink anything I collapse in your arms.
You hold me tight and I can hear your sobs, no matter how much you are trying to conceal them.
We stand like this for a while until you whisper in my ear, “we’re okay.”
And for the first time in months we actually are.
That was an emotional roller coaster to write.
I have an idea for a sequel so maybe if I feel motivated enough I’ll post it some time.