Ero dumped me. It’s not like a harsh dumping that ended with “I don’t like you,” or “I’m better off without you.” No. Not like that.
I just woke up with him gone. All the messages, all the calls. Gone.
We’re like an open-ended story that everyone could try to write an ending to please their selves. But what the hell, I am not sad. Not in the slightest bit.
No pain. No disappointment. No hopes being crashed or trashed.
I still feel whole.
No tiny bits of me love him still. No more “I should be the one,” and “I deserve you better.” No more past kept bugging me and stabbing me in the chest for a thousand times. No more I’m-going-to-die-when-he’s-near feelings. No more butterflies and stuffed up lungs.
No more this. I put my hand over my chest and feel it beat one, one two, two three like a drum. It’s alive but not for him. It’s alive for me.
And that felt totally great because you know what?
I think I’m free.
Free from all the Ero-y feelings I have in my chest. They’re gone. Completely gone.
I don’t know when it started to fade away but I’m happy it did.
“I’m free.” I said dreamily.
I felt the other side of bed moved. I turned to face his back on me and smiled at the thought that I am not alone for the first time in my life. He’s been here every single night to watch over me and I’m grateful for that.