Beautifully Broken

*excuse the lack of capitalization/ punctuation i really dont care.*
He's gone.
I will never feel the touch of his hand...
the brush of his lips against my cheek.
I wont stare into his blue eyes and see a look of longing
of admiration.
and I can see him there, hunched forward with the glow of the computer screen on his cheek...his head in his hands and I can
almost see his heart crushed , crumpled like a paper ball and i can almost see
the blood pouring from it in every cliche dramatic way and I

Feel like shit for making him cry...sob while saying inaudible words as I sniffled into the reciever.
and my mother provided no comfort..only a sneer.
standing there above me with a cold hand on my leg, asking me
why
i was crying
and
didnt i want to do this anyway? wasnt it my master plan?
Mother....

I never wanted to break his heart...crush it ever so sweetly across the phone with shaking words and a lump in my throat that refused to melt no matter how much i willed it to.
I dont take pride in making him cry..
hearing his last "i love you" in a shaking sob...words trembling as he broke down
and i had only seem him cry a few times... heard his words break under the tears...
i hadnt heard him cry in so long...
but i heard him cry today.
and still its like a knife in my heart.....like a dagger to my chest, twisting deeper with every recollection of his broken words...
i never wanted it to be this way.