All Alone.

It’s raining. I always think of you when it rains. It was raining the first time we met, remember? I got caught in the rain on my way back from class and the Laundromat on First, my clean clothes got soaked, but I met you. I ducked into that diner on the corner, the one you used to work at, remember? God, that place had some bad coffee, but I must’ve drunk a thousand cups while you worked there, all in the latest hours of the night and the earliest of the morning. I think you’re the only one who knows that much about me. I had no secrets from you; you knew all my humiliation, my dreams, my joys, my guilt, and my shame, you knew my everything. I think I was in love with you from that first night, when you offered me your last cigarette, and sat with me to wait for the rain to end.

I keep wondering why we didn’t stay like that. Why you took the job across the country, why you never called. Was it something I did? Should I have asked you to stay? I’m constantly plagued with questions I’ll never know the answer to.

But there were always things we didn’t talk about; you said you’d rather not think about the unpleasant. You never told me you were planning on leaving. It came as such a shock to me on that bright morning, when I woke up and you were packing. You weren’t even going to wake me. You’d sat a note on your side of the bed, one that you said would “explain everything” as you ran out the door. It left me with more questions than answers, and no one to ask. For days, weeks, everything I owned; my bed, my pillows, and my clothes, it all smelled like you.

I still wake up in the morning and expect to find you there. Sometimes, I catch the echoes of your voice in my dreams, my nightmares, and as I wake up, I’m convinced you’ve come back. And you know the worst part? I would jump into your arms in a heartbeat if you had.

The worst part is that, I think I could’ve stopped you. Maybe if I’d asked to come with you, or asked you not to go, you would have listened me. When I think about you leaving, the only thing I take solace in is that you didn’t seem happy to go.

I used to think you were perfect. But that was when I thought you’d never leave, that we’d stay that way forever.

I remember that birthday that you took me up to the roof, and we stayed up till sunrise, and right before I fell asleep, you whispered, “I love you” and kissed me. That’s the happiest memory I have with you. My favorite memory.

You could be happy right now, and I honestly hope you are.