his pleas for me to stay were like those of a confused child, his promises to do better like those of one abused, constantly wondering what they had done wrong when the answer was nothing, nothing, nothing.
the way my soul reacted when he curled up on the bed with tears streaming down his face – i’d have preferred fifty blows from whoever the hell the reigning WWE champion is
i wish he had been the one to leave me – a quick stab through the heart, he’s gone, i can grieve. but when i’m the one to say goodbye it’s like running a rusty dagger through my own chest, him pulling it out one inch for every two i let it sink in, me gasping in pain every time he won’t let go.
i can feel it getting deeper, deeper, but never far enough to end this agony.
shit, not in one million years will i be able to say “i’m sorry” enough times to make up for the way the sobs tore out of his throat when i told him i couldn’t stay