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Love StoryThere are no sheets on our bed. The occasional raindrop ticks against the open window, and a soft breeze tangles with the curtains. I am looking at the ceiling. The occasional glow in the dark star is scattered between the pieces of dried out tape. The only remains of other stars, before they fell. She is looking at me. I can see her from the corner of my eye. I keep looking at the ceiling.'We're getting nowhere.''Say something. Say you're sorry.' I don't say anything and I don't look at her.I hope she will tell me to leave, and not ask me to stay. Not to cry, and tell me she loves me. To never again write me a letter, those letters she writes, with such care and percission, every letter an artwork for me. No longer to waste a minute of her time on me, I couldn't accept being worth the words. I wish she would laugh, and scream, and call me a bastard. Tell me this isn't how she knows me, tell me she no longer loves me. With all my heart I hope she is so angry she will hate me, for th
LetterI hope you will read this. I really do. Its just past midnight, but I couldnt go another night without writing this.You are driving me insane. I hate you. Sometimes I forget you exist, and when that happens I hate myself for that. Then Im angry with myself, and I feel so bad for making you leave.But Im not the one that made you leave. You are the one that left.I still remember every moment, that day we had a fight, you said you would get better, but you left, and never even bothered. You didnt even tell me where you went. You left your keys on your bed, just to let me know you wouldnt come back. You will never understand how glad I was you were gone, all the trouble, all the grief, all gone away, and the house felt so much lighter.But then I found out you werent getting better, I saw you, you know. I was in the car and you were right there by the side of the street. In one of those skirts you know I hate. You were wearing far too much make-
End of SomethingOne day I found her on my doorstep. It was early in the morning, and the only concern in my head was if my newspaper had arrived yet. I opened the door of my apartment, my body wrapped in an old bathrobe, that I had never washed in my life. I opened the door, and she was right there. I hadn't recognized her at first. Her body sat like a rag doll, across my apartment door. Her eyes were closed, and her hair was dirty and tangled. There was only one window in the small hallway, through which the fresh sunlight trickled in, landing on the top of her head.I took three small steps forward, only remembering the creaking floorboard after I stepped on it. A loud, whining, high pitched creek thundered through the hallway. Her head shot back, her eyes staring straight into mine, bewildered, shocked, a tiny gasp escaping her lips. I did not see who she was until I had stared at her face for a few frozen seconds. Then I sat down in front of her.'Are you ok?' I put my hand on hers. Her hand was c