The cracks began to show when promises were broken. I assumed the role of a blind when I took note of that, because I was so scared to lose you. Our story used to be a canvas, painted with vibrant colors of love, laughter and joy. But what is left now is a shattered mirror, reflecting the shards of happiness that's lost.

I am strangely tired, not from having talked too much, but at the mere thought of what I still have to say. And I have the words right in my throat but I think they're stuck there. We're slowly fading away. The wall we painted together doesn't even recognize us again. The paint is starting to chip, revealing the fragility beneath. I didn't want to let you go so I kept holding on. But the brushstrokes of love kept fading away.

The final stroke came when you walked away. Half of me was running after you, and the other half... was just mute. Wanted to cry but I felt my eyes no more. You left without looking back to look at me one last time. "Did he ever even love me?", well I had no answer for myself.

But yes, I was defeated when you left. And although I'm prone to a very brief, yet severe spells of sadness, I would still fight to get you back until every bone in my body is broken.

Now that's a promise.
© eberehh