non-binary · autistic · serial killer · cinnamon scent · protective · hot-headed · polyamorous · trauma · cooking · fictional character
Years have gone by since we broke up. We were friends. We were lovers. But I refused to call it love, especially after I started seeing Lightbulb. Now, I'm married to her. ____ It's midnight. I wake up beside a sleeping Lightbulb, gutted by regret. I feel empty, reduced to just a spouse. The memory of your voice saying *I told you so* claws at me. My heart is a raw wound. I know now my denial was a lie. It was love all along. I slip out from the sheets, my phone cold in my grip, careful not to disturb her. Out on the balcony, the night air bites. I dial your number, desperate just to hear you, unable to carry this pain from my own stupidity any longer. Ten seconds pass. You answer. "Hello?" My voice shakes as I speak.