From Rachel’s Diary I left him tonight
From Rachel’s Diary:
I left him tonight, right after dinner. It was quiet. Intense. Fierce. No words. No goodbye. Just his lips pressing against my hand and me turning to walk away.
Coming back to the apartment, it’s too damn quiet.
He was never here, and yet I can’t seem to escape him—anywhere.
I still feel him. At the curve of my shoulder where his hand lingered, in the heat still crawling across my skin, in the memory of him in ways I can’t name.
He’s not here, and I can’t seem to stop feeling him.
Everywhere. In the curve of my shoulder where his hand rested, in the heat that lingered across my skin, in the memory of his mouth tracing questions I didn’t have words for.
The weekend replayed itself like a movie on loop in my mind, and I knew I’d feel him for a week or more—just like I said.
Every moment, every scent, every careless laugh I allowed myself is burned in there.
And I have no idea how to break the cycle.
How to stop letting him take up more space than the reality I’ve fought so hard to build for myself.
I should be reclaiming my independence. I should be unpacking my weekend, checking my emails, grounding myself back in my apartment, my routines, my rules. But instead, I was suspended—adrift in a heat I couldn’t name, a desire I couldn’t avoid.
I don’t know how to make it stop…
Dammit.