I used to think you wasted my time, that the weeks we spent together were nothing more than hours spent with quickened heartbeats for the wrong reasons
Breakups are like that — leaving empty-handed, getting mugged at the grocery store, handing over everything for the sake of not being stabbed in the chest
It’s the adrenaline rushing through you as the final moments are upon you and you know this is goodbye forever, it’s the pleading to be friends despite knowing you were never even that because I never knew your middle name
And that’s the hardest part — canceling the credit cards after the robbery, looking at the glass shattered picture frames and throwing them under your bed, buying everything new so you don’t have to be reminded of the trauma
Thanking god, the universe, that you never stepped foot into my bedroom
If you like this article, check out: https://stories.harnessmagazine.com/a-waste-of-time/
