You Were a Few of my Favorite Things

It didn't feel real; life, reality. It just didn't feel real. When those words traveled out of your mouth, and my bread fell out of mine, it wasn't what I expected it to be. My lips needed moisture but my tongue didn't want to corporate, my eyes began to flood, and my throat. It felt like it was choking. I could feel my weight becoming hard for me to balance as I slowly traveled south to the carpet.

"I just don't think we should talk anymore."

It soon felt hollow when those words hit me, slapped me, punched me; as if someone spooned out my heart and was now serving it to me on a platter. But, should I have seen it coming?

I should've noticed it was coming when you told me those three words, sang them, tried to embrace me into saying them, yet, I did not. I could've noticed it was coming how I could get in you, deep into you without trying, releasing your demons and past tears; though you said that was a positive thing, but was it positive on how many occasions I made you cry? I noticed it was coming by your tone; deep and mono, as if you were about to tell a child that Santa Clause wasn't real but merely a dream. Like how you said I was. Though, I'm a nightmare aren't I ?

"You don't say it back, and I don't think I could ever get over you but. I just. Think it would be best if we didn't talk anymore."

Indeed it felt like a nightmare, one I experienced similar to this particular feeling, words, everything in between. When my breath quickened and got heavy at the sound of your voice, when my lips curved at the sight of your name, where the sun hit me in peace over the wall of nothing.

Though in the nightmare it was different. Your lips did not follow the tempo of your voice that hummed in my ear, hearing the smile in it, when you told me those three words that could make a difference. I, myself, even said them back. I love you too. Though, then your eyes turned up to look at me, dark, and looking empty other then when the sun shined and made them have life and you told me it would be the end, you wouldn't be talking to me anymore. I woke up too quickly before you could say anything else, waking up to thoughts of uneven-ness, will we work out? Would we still be best friends if we didn't?

The wall was building up as you spoke more to me, and it was reality. It wasn't a dream I could just wake up from, there was no opening of light through the crack of bricks and nothing, just the light resting on my lip now.

"I'll tell you 'Good Morning/Goodnight' still. Other then that it hurts too much to talk to you. I'll even still say 'I love you' though, I don't want to."

Don't want to? Then don't.

"I have to."

My throat was closing more then before, why did he have to if he didn't want to? I broke your heart, you didn't have to tell me those words anymore. Though nothing came out other then:

"Oh. Kay." I said as calm as possible.

"Okay." Did he mean it though, I thought to myself.

He must've because after that it was over. My head was nodding in silence though he couldn't see it. My teeth pressured themselves on my bottom lip as I bit them trying to endure light pain.

Music flooded my room with slow beats, lyrics meaning nothing other then love and pain and, love. Goosebumps began to lead up and down my body as I curled into a ball on the floor. Not wanting to breath in the truth I wheezed as the water bled down my cheeks. Fingertips danced by themselves on the carpet making crop circles, the sobs making a lake for the unknown. I soon didn't feel you by my side, I couldn't see your shadow, you began to feel like a ghost, or merely, just a dream.

The day before you told me you wished it could start over,
"I wish it could start over too." I murmured to myself as the wall soon covered my light.