hotelcrooks-blog reblogged
tookyou2weeks-deactivated202107
“I need to go,” I whisper. But I don’t move. His head falls forward onto mine and I let my hands rest on his lower abdomen. I grin a little at the shudder that echoes through him at my touch. It seems fairer this way. He shouldn’t get to leave composed when he’s left me so thoroughly unraveled. I used to look down on level-headed girls who become a mass of contradictions like they don’t know damn well they should leave the boy breaking their heart. God, I was an idiot. Around him, I become an incoherent stream of inverted question marks and half-hearted periods and even those fly out the window when his hands are on me.
“I thought you were leaving,” he says after a long moment.
I laugh sadly. “Yeah, I thought so too.” Sighing, I pull away and head for the door.
“Ree- ”
“You know that nickname never made any damn sense - ”
“Ree, ” he drawls, looking every bit as arrogant and devastatingly handsome as the first day I met him.
“What?” I ask, voice raising a little higher than intended.
“Why aren’t we still together?”
I suck in a surprised breath. “Honestly? Some days, I ask myself the same question, ” I admit for the first time out loud. “Some of my favorite memories are with you.” I smile indulgently at the thought of the many lazy afternoons and weekend adventures spent in his arms. Even now as I leave, a part of me wishes I could stay. “But that isn’t enough,” I clear my throat loudly, “not anymore.”
I know he wants me to say more but I don’t know who that would help. Because the truth is that no amount of love changes the fact that he is careless with other people.
“Ok,” he says softly. I think he knows that for me, there’s nothing left to be said.
So I leave, wishing it felt better even though I knew it wouldn’t. My momma always said it was better to be the one who leaves. She didn’t tell me how remarkably similar it feels to being left.
L.A.L. || excerpt from The Truth About Leaving (via writing-in-the-wings)
