Earthquake

Something is missing.

I am broken.

That's how I feel without her. Like I'm missing pieces. Like she took half of me with her when she left. She took my other half. She was my other half. She completed me, made me whole. Without her, I'm lost.

I know Emerson had suffered. I had too, but I tried. I tried to make her smile, to make her laugh, to make her love me. I tried to make her happy, because if she wasn't happy; I wasn't happy. I had spent years suffering with Emerson, but that was nothing compared to this.

I sat in our room, my room now, staring at the photos on the walls.

If she knew how much I miss her would she come back? I long to see her again, too feel her in my arms. I miss the way her hand felt in mine. I miss the way her heart beat to mine when we were together. I want her back.

Tears stung at my eyes and I bit my lip in frustration.

I needed her. Without her I couldn't eat or sleep. I could barely breathe. I needed her to live.

But she isn't coming back.

She ripped my heart out with four little words.

I. Don't. Love. You.

I'm choking on nothing.