The sky was grey the last day I saw you. The clouds hung low and were heavy, almost as if they wanted to rain but couldn’t for some reason. I empathized because that’s exactly how I felt. My heart hung low and felt heavy and I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. An overwhelming numbness washed over me. I walked to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. I banged until someone opened it only to find you rapidly approaching . This was it. These were our last few seconds together. I knew I needed to make it count. Should I tell you I love you? Should I try and hug you? We only had seconds left, I needed to make it count. But all I could muster up was measly bye in which you replied absentmindedly  “See you later,” as you continued walking away. But we both knew the truth that there wasn’t going to be a later following that day. I watched as you faded away, wanting to hit myself for not saying more. I should have told you I loved you. I should have told you that it was killing me that you were leaving. That I knew it wasn’t my place and it would be ridiculous for me to ask you to stay just for me, but to ask you anyway. Because I needed you to be there with me. Even if our relationship consisted of trivial little conversations in the morning and shared glances when passing each other, I love you and would accept those bits and pieces you would give me of yourself. But all that came out was a bye as I stood in the doorway feeling insignificant and as low as the clouds. 


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