Have you ever heard of phantom limb? Where you know something that used to be there, isn’t anymore. But there are moments that you would swear, in pure lucidity that it still was?
That’s how I felt after the night we ended. The night I cried while I told him I couldn’t take it anymore. The night he begged me to understand; begged me to look at him and believe him when he said that the story splattered across the screens, wasn’t true.
Every night I climbed into bed and I’d lie awake until the tears that soaked my pillow had dried and my sadness turned to exhaustion. As I bordered the line between sleep and awake, I’d pull back the veil of consciousness to find him. To find us.