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2016 valentine flash fiction contest | SECOND WINNER 

by Kellyne Vaudreuil


February 1

"I can't bare the thought of leaving you."

It hurts writing this, writing that, because that's the last thing you whispered before you left me. It hurts to see you, to see you with him.

With Evan Ranch.

How could you look me in the eyes and tell me you loved me when you didn't? When there was another that you yearned for. When I left myself vulnerable and you chose to attack.

How could you?

I still love you. And maybe that's why I'm writing this. Maybe that's why I torture myself by hoping you'll come back to me. By wishing with all of might, by choosing not to let you go.

Because I'm just as in love with you as I was when you first said hello.

February 10

Do you know how much my heart wrenches and how much my stomach lurches when I see you kissing him.

Because I can still remember you kissing me like that, like-


I actually mattered to you. Like you actually cared about me.

You obviously didn't, but like an idiot I still ache for your attention. Or your smile or even a simple hello, but it seems like I don't exist. At least in your eyes. Dad found me crying over you yesterday and he told me that men aren't supposed to cry. Maybe that's why you left me, maybe I was too apathetic towards you. And it's quite ironic because I'm just now starting to feel.

February 14

Today is our 3 year anniversary.

And as much as I know how wrong it is to do this, I had to. This would be my last plea, my last act to get you back. Do you remember those chocolates from Africa that you fell in love with? And that vintage Beatles record that you always wanted but couldn't afford?

Well, here you go.

I slid the chocolate, the record, and a small note through the gaping hole in your back door when I knew you weren't around late in the afternoon yesterday.

Happy anniversary, my love.

February 17

You came over today.

You told me to stop.

To stop conflicting you, to stop loving you, because you were done loving me.

And so, you dumped the chocolates, which hadn't even been opened, on the living room couch. You slid the record over to me across the coffee table and you left the note lying in my left palm. When you stood to leave, I should've said something to make you stay. But I didn't.

And so, you gave me one last parting wave, whispered a final goodbye, and turned on your heel. I watched from the window as you got into your blue Honda and drove off, fading from my view.

I opened the note, wondering if I should've wrote something different. That's when I noticed your familiar chicken scratch in the left bottom corner.

"I'll always have love for you in my heart, but I can't possibly love you now, not again. I'm sorry.
I hope you'll forgive me and move on, because I have. And it's hard for me to see you suffer. Even though you made me suffer. So, please take my advice and stop loving me because it'll only hurt you even more, my dear."

Why would you ask me to do something that you know I'll never be able to?

Because I cannot part with you, it will not be such sweet sorrow for me. It will be a bitter taste in my mouth. Like a wound that's been opened, it will be difficult to heal.

And now I wish I had said it, because I finally and truly know what it is to love you.

                                                                                                                                 THE END

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