He left me alone, here, nowhere to run, nowhere to feel safe. The sadness burning inside my heart, leaving me empty on a path. Raindrops drop onto it, leaving it slippery and wet. Somehow, everything turns grey, the path, the sky, my heart. And I can’t stop it, even if I wanted to.

He was the one, he was my soulmate. I was so sure, so fucking sure. It feels like a nightmare. I couldn’t imagine myself without him, I thought I couldn’t live without him. He was my everything, but I didn’t mean anything to him.

I decide to walk the path. Small houses appear in the distance but somehow I feel lonely. Every house reminds me of him. Of the plans we made.

Living in a small house with a pretty view on a lake, the garden leading to it with a small wooden path. Pretty flowers blooming around the facade of the house, roses in a vase every week.

He didn’t mean it, he meant nothing.

The path hurts more than I thought it might do. Every step breaks me more. Every house burns more.

In the distance, behind me, he’s standing beside the path. It looks like he’s not able to enter it, like something is keeping him from entering. Tears rolling down his cheeks and for a second I think about turning around.

He can’t enter it because of the damage it causes, because of the memories, because of how much it might break him.

And he looks at me. Fascinated that I was able to enter it, that I was able to face the pain, the truth. He underestimated me. Now I understand.