Gone. You're gone. And I cry.
I stare at the mirror in the bathroom, face blank, and I look at my reflection. What exactly was wrong with me that made you abandon me? I couldn't see anything - I was only ever being myself. Long locks of dark hair, pale complexion, dark eyes that, right now, looked like empty black holes.
I turn on my heel and walk into the bedroom. Along the walls are photos of us - several with your arms around me, several where we weren't touching, but we were always smiling. Anger flares through me and I rip them all down, one by one. A twinge of satisfaction, but it still isn't enough. I throw them into the bin, watching the little pieces of you and me flutter to the bottom.
With a lighter, I begin the flames. The edges curl up, charred and eventually burned. I watch with a malicious smile as the pieces crumble to ashes, black, wafting ashes that can be blown away with the wind. I'll pretend it never it happened, but I cannot pretend you don't exist. Because you do, in my heart and in the world, and nothing can change that.