We spent the summer in love and avoided the inevitable. The day before he left, we cried for two hours straight. We didn’t kiss or touch, except to hold hands, and even that felt empty. He got in his car and I stood by the door, reality slowly sinking in. This was it. He was leaving, and he wasn’t coming back. “Goodbye,” he choked out, backing up his car. He turned to look at me one last time. I’ve never felt so much pain from one glance.
Aftermath: We agreed on no contact. It’s been incredibly difficult. We’ve talked every single day for almost two years; now there’s nothing. I lean on my friends and family, let myself cry when I need to. I put his pictures, gifts, and everything else away. I’m not okay, but I’m alive.
This post was submitted by Annika.