Tonight, as I light up the candles you left on the bedside table, I think of the question you had asked before you closed the door. What could have been different?
Perhaps that scent of yours not branded by any perfume. Or that gaze of yours to my dry lips. Or the way our fingers had this brewing desire not to ever unlatch. Or that thousand scenarios benefiting me. Or you.
But do think it is unfair for you to have asked me that question when it was you I had chosen before we even began. And if you ever persist, during one of your sleepless nights perhaps, then think that I did not even swim in your spirit, just to justify your false reason to depart in the first place.
WORD COUNT: 131
Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.