VACANCY

010

We fight over petty things. I hate fighting with you more than anything else in the universe. You treat me like a child and you refuse to apologise for it, arguing that your actions are just. I refuse to accept your lack of apology. We are both in the wrong; we have both blown the argument out of proportion, but we refuse to back down. We pass each other without meeting eyes. I’m not sure why you do it, but as for me, I just can’t bear it. Because then I feel like crying.

I was lying on my floor in the dark, spread-eagled, an unlit cigarette between my lips. You came in and lay down next to me, your cheek to my cheek. I want to utter a thousand tendernesses to you in that moment. My eyes fill and your voice breaks, but we are both cold and distant. “What do you expect me to say?” I feel like I am crumbling into millions and millions of pieces from the inside out, eyes shut. I feel empty and sad and overwhelmed. I am shaking. You said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, but you were drunk. I never know when to believe you.