On Lost Pieces and Devestation

via Daily Prompt: Devastation

His Irish luggage strewn about the hallway of our building made the statement I hadn’t yet been strong enough to make myself. Behind the freshly changed locks on the door of our once shared apartment I hid, ashamed of my failures.    Why was I so cold to him I asked myself? If only I had been better he wouldn’t have needed her to make him feel whole, wanted, appreciated, loved.

I couldn’t remember the last time he had made me feel whole, wanted, appreciated, or loved.

I listened from behind those changes locks as he gathered his things from the hall. I listened as he spewed hatred toward me with such intentional violence and I realized something. I realized I was, in fact, devastated.

Devastated not for the loss of this man or this facade of a relationship, but

Devastated for the pieces of me lost in him.

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