I didn't plan anything before I started to write, so it might be a little confusing.

You're laying on your right side on your bed. Staring to your bedroom wall. Feeling water pour into your eyes and stream down your cheeks, filled with warmth and sadness. Not that it would be the first time that you've cried over him.

Remember all those times he said he'd do this? Him saying you wouldn't be happy without him, that you would be miserable, feel so numb that in the end you'd hang from the ceiling beam, thinking of him. 'Why are you crying?' he asked you right after that. 'Nothing' you answered even though you wanted to scream at his face 'WHAT DO THINK?!'

But he was wrong. This... This was the best thing you could've done. Dumping his smug ass. Sending that f*cker away, far away from you. Saying every thing you've wanted to say to him for these last couple of months, saying that you hated him.

But hating means that you still care. That you still want to believe he is the man you met few years ago at the cafe on Broome Street in New York. Or the man you spent two weeks surfing in Miami. But reality's different. Because he ain't.

The light from your, usually so bright, coral blue eyes is drifting away. The crying has stopped for awhile, but you don't know which was worse. The sadness you felt after dumping him, that made you cry, or the feeling of nothing that you feel now. You tell yourself 'Everything's going to be okay.' even though you know it's not.

You close your eyes, still wet from the flow, and try to think of something else, anything else, but all you see is him. His brown hair and the way it curls when it's foggy and humid. The way it slides through your fingers. His deep olive eyes, and the wrinkles he gets in the side of them when he smiles. Lips, so soft and fitting against yours. Those stormy blue veins that are snaking around his arms and neck. The movement he makes when he's kissing you, trying to push you down to your bed while struggling with your bra. And the happiness and satisfaction you saw in his face the first time you took your clothes off in front of him.

And now all of that is gone. You start asking yourself over and over again how did he change so much in a year. How could the person you loved the most, be the person you now loathe?

But although a lot can happen in a year. In 365 days he stopped saying I love you and replaced it with a quick kiss in the corner of your lips. He started to pick up fights for nothing. One time, you remember, he argued about who left the microwave open. He started to go for a beer after work and come every other night home drunk and carrying that awful smell of whiskey and cosmo together.

Even though you both saw you were already broken, he still had the nerve of faking, that you breaking up with him, came as a shock to him.

You begin to feel a bit tired, you're thoughts are starting to float away. You start feeling as though you are falling without knowing it yourself. The last thing you think, before you fall asleep, is 'I want him back', followed by a question '...but why?'

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