This Is How It Felt To Watch You Walk Away

It was around half past seven when I arrived at a little cafe in your city. I took a seat at one of the stools facing the glass wall, overlooking the busy street. It was a cold, rainy night. I thought you wouldn’t come, but then I saw you step out of your car and ran towards the door, trying to avoid the rain. You sat beside me, and there was a long stretch of silence.

My mind was blank and no words came out from my mouth. I wanted to say that I was sorry but I knew that it could not fix what I broke. I drove for miles to tell you the biggest apology, yet, there I was, speechless.

“I’m sorry,” I finally said, for the millionth time, even though I knew that those words will never be enough. I looked at you and you didn’t spare me a glance. Tear after tear ran down from your face. You couldn’t bear to look at me at all.

I asked you to stay even though I already knew that you won’t. You can’t. I knew that your heart was still breaking, and breaking again into smaller pieces. I tried to convince you that things would be better even though I knew deep down that things wouldn’t be. I knew that we were damaged beyond repair. Unfixable. We loved each other and that hasn’t changed, but love wasn’t enough to make things better.

I knew it was going to be our last night. Who would have thought? After almost a decade of being in each other’s lives, after getting intertwined into each other’s life story, it ends here, tonight. Eventually, I knew I had to stop asking you to stay.

Instead, I asked you to hold my hand for one last time. I moved closer to you and I put my head over your shoulder. I gripped your hand tight and closed my eyes as everything played back like a tsunami crashing down on me – from the day I first met you, to the day you asked for my name, the first time we had dinner together, and the day you asked me to be mine. I remembered the day when you showed up on my doorstep with fruits when I was sick, the day you danced with me on my birthday, that time when you went back with me to my hometown, and those moments when we would argue over the simplest things and then patch things up over tacos at our favorite Mexican place. I cherished the way my head fit perfectly between your shoulder and neck, how comforting it felt to have someone to lean on, and how it felt to be strong during my weakest times because you were, for the longest time, my pillar.

I felt your grip tighten like you didn’t want to let go. For the last time, I prayed to God that you’d change your mind and that by some miracle, you’d decide to stay. But as you slowly loosened your grip, I knew I had to loosen mine. I looked into your eyes for the last time and it was heartbreaking. I could still see through you and you were destroyed. Every bit of you was broken, and you were destroyed by the one you loved the most.

I knew I couldn’t stop you from leaving. I knew you didn’t want to leave. But we both knew you had to.

I watched you walk out of the door, and I knew I deserved it, and that you deserved to leave. As the door closed, that was when I realized that tonight was the night I watched the most important person, the better half of my heart, walk out from my life.

You deserve to heal. And you deserve to be happy.