infinitesimal

perspective

Infinitesimal


All he could see in his mind were flashes of past events his conscience refused to forget – his DNA leaving imprints on girls whose skin he was never meant to touch and a kaleidoscope of drinks that were unable to blur the pain. His fingers left trails on other women’s skin that seemed to betray his heart, and he knew it. It didn’t appear to matter how many lights he switched off or how tightly he closed his eyes, their voices never sounded like hers. He missed her.

The past few weeks, he had been conflicted, not sure if he was more angry or hurt. The fact that she managed to move on like it had been nothing - like he was nothing. He wondered if this other guy bothered to learn her details like he did. It was as painful as watching a young toddler toss around a piece of fine china. He was scared she would break in his arms and he would leave like she was worthless. He would be the one to cut himself on her broken pieces, desperately trying to piece her back together. He always was.
tihdal:

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