It must feel so unloved...
I don't have a post, but I haven't posted anything lately, so y'all get a short story. I don't have a title for it, so I originally called this post the first thing I could think of that applied, which was "The Goodbye Letter"
Then I pictured that popping up in your inbox and all of you freaking out. Super misleading!!
So, I went with the simple "Short Story." Because that's what it is. It's just something I wrote off a writing prompt, so I hope you enjoy it!
I wrote you a letter you’ll never read. If you look closely at the pages you’ll find the stains where my tears fell as I wrote. The handwriting gets sloppier with each sentence as I became so caught up in the words I forgot to keep my mind on writing legibly. By the end, you probably wouldn’t be able to read what I wrote anyway.
Not that it matters anymore.
I baked a cake you’ll never eat. I set it out and the guests all helped themselves, talking in hushed tones as they ate the thin slices. Pineapple pound cake. Your favorite. I jumped every time the door opened, but you never came through it. The cake is gone and the guests left but you never came home.
I drove past your work every day for a month, but your car was never there. I looked every time I drove by but your blue impala was never in the parking lot, in its usual space. I suppose you don’t drive it anymore, so I don’t know why I would expect to see it.
I saw you every time I went out, saw you in every crowd, saw you in the face of every stranger I past. But they were never really you. I kept an eye out. I really did. I always thought I would see you, always expected to run into you. But it never happened.
I still have your voicemail, but it’s not enough. I wanted to see you one last time, wanted a chance to talk, wanted a chance to say goodbye. Why didn’t you give me that chance? You really think leaving a phone message is good enough? You’d really do that to the woman you claimed to love?
I didn’t get out of bed for days after I got your message. I didn’t eat and my sleep was fitful and full of dreams. More like nightmares. When I did start eating again, I ate my way through six pizzas, three jars of pickles, and nine pints of ice cream. I threw up three times.
I cried for months. I cried on the way to work and on the way home, and in the shower, and while I sat alone on the couch every night. I blamed you. And then I blamed me. And then I blamed them. I missed you and I hated you. I wanted you back and never wanted to see you again.
I had to explain it to my friends and family. Only, what was I supposed to tell them? I dreaded facing them and avoided it whenever possible. How could I explain to them when I didn’t even understand it myself?
You left me. And, I couldn’t even call you. You left me and I didn’t know why. Was it me? Did I do something? Was I not good enough for you? If I had done something differently would we be together today? If I had done things differently would you have stayed?
I got rid of everything that reminded me of you. I went through the house and did a complete overhaul, throwing everything away, cleaning it all out. I felt so good about myself, actually getting something done. I removed all traces of you, fueled by my anger.
And then I regretted it and collapsed on the kitchen floor, sobbing, pleading with you to come back to me.
I waited for you. All those parties I skipped out on, all the people I kept at arms’ length. You were coming back. And I wanted to be available when you did. I waited. I waited so long, put my life on hold, hoping, praying, begging you to come back.
But, you never did.
I’ve moved on now. Just like you asked me to. I don’t know when it happened, but it did. One day I realized I could laugh without forcing myself. I could walk past a couple holding hands without wanting to hurt one of them. I actually wanted to go out with my friends.
I still miss you. There are some days when it hits me all at once and I am struck with the overwhelming urge to cry. But, it doesn’t last. I’m doing better. I can live without you.
I met someone. He’s so different than you, it’s almost funny. But we fit so perfectly together. I felt guilty at first, like I was cheating on you. I felt like I was doing something wrong, like I was being unfaithful.
But, you’re not coming back. I’ve accepted that now. And, I’ve forgiven you. I understand now. You didn’t choose to leave me. You chose to fight for something bigger than us, chose to stand up for what you believed in.
It wasn’t your fault you had to leave me.
I’m not angry anymore. My life is good, just as you hoped it would be. Just as you asked me to make it. Robert’s a wonderful guy. You would like him. And, you would be proud of me. Proud of the things I’m doing, proud of me for doing so well. But, it’s time for me to let you go. To truly say goodbye. So, here it is:
Good bye, Ethan.
Rest in peace.
And, there you have it!! Let me know what you thought in comments below!!! :D