Short Break

In the end, it all came down to pink roses and blue fairy tales.

My story ended with empty chocolate boxes and the shards of broken perfume bottles shattered across the floor, their contents rising up and bathing me in a mist of sweet abandon and heartbreak. As I sat there with my eyes closed, I felt my cheeks deepen into darker shades of pink as I felt the regret begin to choke me. I turned to look at the unmade bed behind me, those white sheets that had held me as I lay afraid as a child. I regretted the moment that I'd pushed away my blankets and replaced them with you warm arms. I wish now that I'd pushed you away and furrowed deeper into my cave of covers, that I'd never given in and that your threats were all just empty echoes. I realized I regretted you and I left all my regret leak down my cheeks and scale the hollows of my neck. I realized my innocence had long ago kissed me on the cheek and left in the back pocked of your jeans out of my bedroom window. I wanted it back. I wanted everything I had tried so desperately to lose back, and to forget the hours, the minutes, the seconds that I'd wasted in your sweaty palms. I felt so violated, and I could feel your hands tickling the places I wish I'd kept to myself. I wished I could've erased every part of me that you had ever seen.

But I knew that no matter how many hours I spent trying to forget your every touch, the only thing that would ever permanently leave me was you.