And We Just Hate to Say Goodbye

Grasping your hand tightly, I feel you squeeze my hand for some sort of reassurance, feeling the rings on my fingers dig into my skin painfully. I close my eyes, inhaling softly, the slight pain dragging me back into the moment. You let go and I feel the absence so distinctly, knowing the spaces between your fingers fit mine so perfectly. A shiver runs through me, everything in body pleading for you to come back to me. A sharp, jagged realization—I need you.

You wrap your arms around me from behind as you bury your face into my neck. Nothing matters but this moment. I put my hand over yours, resting just above my ribcage, and clutch it almost desperately. A shudder racks through me and I could’ve sworn you felt my heart stutter as you turn me around to face you. You cup my face and pull me closer as selfish tears well up in my eyes.

You bend down gently, your eyes begging—I’m sorry.

Your lips press against mine tenderly, and I shut my eyes tightly as if my will is enough to make moment this last forever. A tear runs down my cheek, pressed cold and close between us. A single, fragile kiss I don’t deserve. You pull back, running the pad of your thumb across my cheek, tracing my lips so delicately. Subconsciously, I press myself against you closer, and as if sensing my urgency, you hug me against you tightly. I bury my head in your chest, desperately willing myself not to cry.

You kiss the top of my head and gently pull away from our embrace. One last goodbye, one last glance. I stared after you longingly, trying to memorize every plane and detail of your face. My eyes made contact with yours, and at that moment I could’ve sworn to God my eyes were screaming—I love you.