Tears streamed heavily down my cheeks as I watched Andrea struggle to pull her suitcase (which held most, if not all of her clothes) down from on top of the entertainment center.
I sigh a bit, sniffle, and murmur a gentle, "Here, let me help you."
Surprisingly, she obliged. I lifted the suitcase gently from the entertainment center and put it on the ground for her. "Thanks." She smiled sadly towards me.
She began to pull it towards the open door.
That was the last of it. Andrea was gone. There was nothing that I could say, nor do, to bring her back. I look around the room for anything she might have missed. I spotted it.
"Andrea!" I called back to her. She paused and turned towards me. I pull her hoodie, the one I bought her with our initials on the back, from the ground and looked towards her pleadingly.
"You forgot this."
Her eyes were blank as she shook her head. "Keep it!" She called back to me with little to no emotion in her words. "You need to fill the hanger space, don't you?"
With that, she packed the suitcase in her car, and my heart felt as if a bullet just crammed it's way into my heart and became snug. I gasp out a sob as she drives away.
I couldn't bare to watch her leave. Why did I watch her go?
I slam the door and let out a loud, ear piercing scream as my body crumbled to the floor.
Goddammit! How could I be so fucking foolish? Was there something that I could have done? Shut up Faith; you did this!
You did this.
It was my fault that she was gone. It was my fault I was alone. If only I had some way to reverse time maybe none of this would have ever happened.
My body curls into a fetal position as my tears stain the floor. I can't stop screaming out as I sob. My chest aches, my head pounds.
Who knew that you could feel physical pain when your heart breaks? I sure as hell didn't.
I find myself pounding at the ground with a gentle, "Andrea!" Escaping my lips.
"I knew better!" I wail to no one as I stand wobbly. I stumble towards our...my bedroom as I moan and look around. There was so much stuff that she left behind. Couple clothing I bought.
Old photos from our time in Paris. Her engagement ring.
"I knew better!" I scream at the top of my lungs and grab the nearest thing I can, which happened to be our picture of our time in Paris, and smash it against the wall.
Glass shards shatter everywhere over the milky carpet and vanity. The vanity. All of our Polaroids, from the time we spent in Paris, to only weeks ago. "How could she do this to me?"
I rush over to the vanity, slamming my hands down on shards of broken glass.
The pain doesn't register in my head, but I could see blood beginning to drip from my hand within the next minute as I stare at my crumpled body.
I scream out yet again and without a second thought, punch the mirror. It, too, shatters. Blood is now rushing a mile a minute from my knuckles, and I stumble back in pain.
But I'm not done. I refuse to be done. I don't care anymore. I can't care anymore.
My only source of happiness is gone. And I was foolish.
I grab the Polaroid pictures that were once taped to the mirror and rip them all in half. Every single one of them. Blood is splattering over the carpet now. My mind is becoming foggy.
I grab the engagement ring and throw it somewhere I'd never see again, in other words, behind my dresser closest to the closet. I look towards our...my bed. Her roses. Her precious, red roses.
I grab them all one by one and pull the petals off in a heap of rage. I watch as the petals fall to the floor, and I grab the vase.
It was her mother's final gift to her. Why wouldn't she bring this with her?
Tears are blinding me, and pain begins to register in my brain. Goddamn, this glass. In one final heap of unfiltered rage, I throw the vase towards the wall closest to the dresser.
It shatters loudly and sends more glass rolling. There is a water stain now visible on the carpet and the beige-colored wall, but I am satisfied — sort of.
Pain is now yelling at me, and as blood pools on the ground underneath me, I gasp and run out of my bedroom towards the bathroom directly across the hall.
I struggle to open the door, and sobs fall from my mouth now out of pain.
I guess it was always the pain — still pain.
I struggle to stop the bleeding and ultimately dose off as I sit on the toilet to do so. But of course, I can't sleep. I won't be able to sleep due to all of this pain in my hands and knuckles.
I reach into the cabinet and grab a pair of sweaters and begin to pull the glass out.
I bite my lip to hold back my cries of pain as I do so. Goddammit. God-fucking-dammit.
I with each shard that I pulled out of my hands and knuckles, the feeling in the pit of my stomach only worsened.
How could this have happened? Why did I let the only person slip away from me so goddamn easy? I could have stopped her.
I could have told her that she wasn't going anywhere and force her to stay with me. But that was the reason she left to begin with.
I was too clingy. All of this was because I was way too clingy for my damn good. Why did I do this to myself? How could I hurt myself for my selfish benefit?
But what was so sorry about me being clingy? It never bothered her! Yes, it did, why am I lying to myself?
It was the constant thought of her cheating. It was the infinite knowledge that she wore the ring and promised that we'd be together forever.
It was the constant self-hate that I put myself through on the daily because I didn't think that I deserved her.
And I was right; I didn't deserve such a masterpiece. What made me think I ever did?
As I pull the last shard out, I sigh and stand up. I had stopped crying only minutes before this, and honestly, I just...I have to sleep.
My body has added weight as I trudge to the bed. When I collapse beneath the covers, it's only seconds before I am asleep.
I awake, and the first thing I do is go to kiss Andrea. She's not there. Of course, she's not there. She left only (I check the time) twelve hours ago.
The frogs croaked outside as I sat up with a devastated sniffle. I pick up my phone and check my messages. None.
Why hasn't she messaged me? I thought she would have at least messaged me to let me know that she was okay. Why the hell didn't she call me?
I put my thumbprint in and open the call-log. I scroll through my contacts until I find Andrea. "My Babygirl."
I touch the number, and it rings, and rings, and rings, then straight to voicemail. I listen to Andrea's voice, which brings tears to my eyes.
Is she already changed her voicemail?
Where is the sound of our two voices saying, "Hey this is Andrea," I pipe in, "And Faith!" Andrea would giggle and say, "We're unavailable at the moment, leave a message!"
Instead, it said, "Hi this is Andrea, leave me a message."
As the beep sounds for me to leave a message, I am silent for a second. I sniffle.
"Hey, Andrea, it's uh...It's Faith. Please call me back when you get this I'd like to talk to you and see if you've settled in." I hang up. She's probably just busy unpacking.
Her apartment isn't that big, and she has a lot of stuff to remove.
But Andrea always calls back five minutes later without fail. She'll call me back!
But five minutes go by. Ten. Twenty. I hit the call button again.
Ring.."Hi, this is Andrea; leave a message."
It only rang once. What the fuck? I whimper a bit and call again.
Ring.."Hi, this is Andrea; leave a message."
Did she ignore my call? God please no. Please let me hear your voice.
I call again, but this time it goes straight to voicemail. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare down at my phone. My lip curls underneath me as I slowly lift the phone back to my ear.
"Andrea, please. Please answer me. I really," I choke on a sob, "I need you right now please don't do this to me." I hang up and call right back.
"Hi, this is Andrea; leave a message."
At this point I am sobbing, "Andrea goddammit, answer me! Please, baby-girl I need you! I need you to please baby!"
The same old tale of calling goes on like this for at least ten more minutes, and finally, I throw my phone down and sob deeply into my pillow.
I feel like a teenage girl again. I haven't cried like this over anyone in so long. The last breakup I had was with Jade, and even I didn't mourn that hard over her.
The recent true breakup I had in which I cried like this was with Tyler. God. She was the only woman I could see myself marrying. After her, I was exactly the way I am now. Devastated. Broken.
Wishing things would change.
I jump as my phone rings. I look towards it excitingly, expecting "My Babygirl" to appear on the screen. But instead, it was only Jade. I shakily answer the phone and whimper a simple, "Hello?"
"You don't sound good, Kitten."
Jade's voice is oddly comforting as I scoff. "Yeah well, I just got broken up with about...fourteen hours ago?"
"Shiiiit," Jade hissed over the phone. "I didn't know that. I wondered why Andrea wasn't answering her phone. I was calling to see if you wanted to go out to eat tonight.
I was going to offer Andrea to come with us but...
now that you two are split, wanna do it alone? To get your mind off things?" I look around the room and sigh, shaking my head as if she could see.
"Can you come over instead?"
There is a long pause and then a sigh, "You are hurting, aren't ya Kitten?"