In the Wake of You

In the Wake of You

By: E.S.


That’s how it felt

That’s how it felt in the air outside,

That’s how it felt in my heart

The absence of you hurt more than anything I’d ever known

And it was in the simple things. The everyday things that shouldn’t matter- the things I should not have gotten upset over.

It was in the way the trees blew around at night after the rain. I would walk alone, like a ghost, and remember the night we ran around in the rain without a single worry in the world.

It was in the way your driveway laid next to mine. and the way that the badminton racks hung on the wall in my garage. I would touch them and suddenly be whisked away to the summer when we played under the night sky without any shoes on.

It was in the way your number was still under “favorites” on my phone. And every time I saw it I would hear the five-hour phone calls we had while our families slept. And it took me a long time to delete it because I could not let myself believe that you weren’t coming back.

But, more than anything I wondered. I was constantly walking around in my head, searching for some sort of answer as to why, someone whom I loved endlessly, someone whom I’d known for two years had just disappeared one day. The only thing was, you didn’t disappear. You were still right down the street, still in your house, still there. So I wondered.

And the wondering nearly killed me.

I thought about every single possibility. I thought that maybe it was me, maybe I wasn’t good enough for you, maybe you’d found some pretty blonde-haired girl, but I didn’t care about that. I didn’t love you like that, I only wanted you to be happy. I hope you are, even now.

I cried over you. I really did. The type of cry that makes your whole body hurt. The type of confused cry. It hurt me, you hurt me, when I waited for a birthday text from you that never came.

You were the first person I texted when my mom died. You were always the first person who I could trust, who was real with me.

And boy, was the hurt real when you left.

Eden Smith, Sweet Spade

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