Never has this room felt as empty as it does now without you in it. It is clustered with material items, and memories, but it lacks the promise of your return. We spent many moments in this room. You basically lived in it with me for the past year. And now our long distance has become permanent.
My heart collapsed the day you told me, “You didn’t want to be in a relationship anymore.” I didn’t understand, why had it come to this? What happened to the guy who wanted to marry me, who was hopelessly devoted to me? Where did that affection go? Questions upon questions fill my head, yet they are all left unanswered.
I wish I could be angry with you. You left during the most transitional period of my life. Your affections faltered when I was most vulnerable, when I needed your support. I wish I could blame you for your lack of communication. I wish I could blame something, but I know nothing of what happened from your end. I only put you on a pedestal because I will forever love you. I found you perfect for me, and I found you worthy to hold my trust. I hoped you would always be a constant in my life, especially after you promised to marry me.
You never put a ring on my finger, but the words, “One day I’m going to marry you,” still haunt me. I thought for sure you were it, the one I would grow old with. Even when the signs were blatantly obvious you were not putting forth the effort as you once did. You never missed me, you rarely held my hand or kissed me in public. But you always came back to my bed, in this room. Until you left for your summer long adventure.
I feared this quest, because I knew you would abandon me. I predicted that you wouldn’t miss me, and the minute I mentioned you were ignoring me you would break up with me. I had higher expectations in you. I wanted you to prove me wrong. I hoped the distance would strengthen us. I hoped you would return to the boy who wanted to share your name with me. I wanted you to come back and share this bed with me. But reality consistently beats the fantasy.
My world crumbled when you broke up with me. It wasn’t the break up itself which completely shattered me, it was the reaction following suit: absolute silence. Why must you torture me with it? All I desire are answers. But even more than answers I desire the assurance that you will come back to this room. I hate how vacant it feels without your presence. The hope is that you will come back to me, that you will realize that you need me just as much as I need you. The reality is uncertainty and silence.