10: the number of years I’ve known you (my world shifting, aligning to your existence)
9: years spent loving, basking in your presence, whispering sweet-nothings against your lips
8: months since I saw you leave abruptly (your silhouette bleeding against the rain as you left)
7: weeks since we last talked (indifferent, disinterested, foreign, silence looming over us like death)
6: drafts I wrote of the message I last sent (teary-eyes, trembling hands, and a fading resolve)
5: words that shattered me to pieces: Do you still want this?
4: days spent locked in my room (pain, tears, numbness, a void surrounding me like a coffin)
3: deep breaths before I answered (hoarse, ragged, painful)
2: pairs of eyes profusely tearing (bloodshot, pleading)
1: word whispered like an eulogy (we’re gathered here to remember…)
No.