Computer issues and shadowing Rochelle in Israel… in the same cities, but we never ran into each other. I’m back! I’m grateful for Ms. Wisoff-Fields and her hard work each week, and the photo prompt this week from Susan Eames.
This story was inspired by an old diary I recently came across, when I was in love for the first time. We dated for three years–– seventeen to nearly twenty, and as these things often go, it ended with a broken heart, and growth.
As always, I welcome honest, constructive feedback.
HE LEAVES ME HANGING
As he kissed me goodnight, I felt him leaving me. I wanted to hold on, beg him to stay; I wanted him to go and let me breathe again. It was all in that one kiss.
“Is everything okay,” I whispered, waiting for the blow.
“Sure. I’m just tired.” His eyes betrayed him. “I love you.”
I clung to the hope his lies offered.
He left me hanging, and we lingered in a bittersweet ending for weeks. When he finally said the worlds: “I think we should see other people,” I breathed a sigh. And cried for weeks.
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