HATE TO LOVE YOU
He stands up when he sees me, and he looks so different—his eyes are tired, his face is dull, and he seems completely drained, like he’s just existing without really living.
With all my strength, I manage to sit up, and he watches me from a distance. Our eyes meet, and we don’t say a word; we just silently communicate how empty we feel without each other. “I love you,” the words slip out before I can stop them. He looks at me, confused.