I Remember When We Broke Up Novels & Stories

I blinked once, twice, but, no, I couldn’t make sense of what he said. Eloquently, I said, “Huh?” I glanced at Elva, softly sleeping in his arms. She was three years old. That lined up with our breakup three years ago. But… I tried to recall the memory. We’d been so young then, too eager and excited and inexperienced. We’d both finished in clumsy haste. I couldn’t remember where he was when he’d climaxed. But, hadn’t he been wearing a condom at the time? His face retained its anger, but the certainty that fueled it seemed to slide into bewilderment. His gaze shifted, like he was trying to remember too.

It's essential to respect his right to privacy, I was going to tell her the doctor refuse I be in the room. I miss him, I miss us, and the crazy times we had running around the house, laughing and just being ourselves. When I walked into his room earlier, it was like a wave of nostalgia hit me. All these memories came flooding back, the good times, the bad times, everything. It hurts thinking about what we had and how it all ended. The last memory we made in that room was our breakup, and it's still painful. But what's even more painful is that he doesn't even remember any of it. Our entire relationship, all the highs and lows, it's like it never existed to him.

With one mistake… we shattered into pieces. For years that we were together, we were used to each other’s company. Sleep in the same apartment, celebrated special days together, build dreams together, and now that we broke up, how can I get back to my old self? In that three days, I was trying to find my old self. I asked myself what are the things I do before I met him so I could do those things again now that he is now out of my life. It was hard. It was just three days since we broke up but I could say that it was really damn hard for me. How much more in the upcoming days?

However, that didn't affect my decision to break up with him. What I couldn't forget was not Chris himself but the love and time I invested over five years. I said, "Mr. Moyer, I think I made myself clear before. If your memory is failing you, I don't mind repeating it. "We broke up half a year ago. So please, stop pestering me and asking me these inexplicable questions. It's really troubling me." "What did you call me?" Chris asked. I shrugged. How come his hearing still wasn't sharp after six months?

It was starting to feel creepy now and I just wanted to get away from her as far as possible. "I don't think I can do this anymore. I am leaving!" I said to her. "You know....I really missed the times when we were together. I can't even remember why we broke up anymore. What I can remember is that I love you. I have never stopped loving you all these years. And you.....well, I miss you" Isabella told me.

"Yes, Miss Ava." As soon as the staff member left carrying the box, Ava felt as though the apartment had suddenly become much quieter. Maverick looked at Ava for a few moments. "Do you regret it?" Ava turned to him. "Throwing all of it away?" Her gaze briefly followed the box as it disappeared beyond the door, then a faint smile appeared on her face. "It's a shame, actually." Maverick continued waiting for whatever Ava wanted to say next. Ava lowered her head slightly. "No matter what, those were seven years of my life." There was a brief pause before she continued. "But if I'm the only one who remembers them..." Ava's voice was much quieter this time. "What's the point?"

I demanded, though the words came out strangely clear despite being underwater. “This realm feeds on truth.” Its empty face turned toward me. “And you have spent most of your life running from yours.” Before I could answer, the water around us rippled violently and another memory appeared. This one hit harder than the others. I saw Mike and i froze. The memory unfolded slowly in front of me. It was the night before our breakup. I watched myself sitting on Mike’s bed while he stood by the window with his back turned toward me. His shoulders looked tense and exhausted. “You’ve been distant lately,” memory-me had said quietly. Mike didn’t answer immediately.

I blasted at her not ready to take anymore girly shit of her. “Think practically I. You can’t come back to tracks in this near future if you go like this and forget about the zonal championships. With yourself, you’ll destroy me too and I would never let that happen with both of us" and cane the final verdict of the so-called love story of the great I and his lovely girlfriend Caroline. “Fine then” I slammed at her and happened our official breakup and I didn’t even feel bad that it happened.

He’d kissed me like the past three years hadn’t happened. He’d made me hope. And hope was so much more dangerous than hate. “Good days” by SZA started playing. I’d listened to this song on repeat for months after our breakup. Apparently, nothing had changed. I curled up on my couch, wineglass in hand, phone in the other, scrolling through memories that should have stayed buried. There was a video. I’d forgotten about this one. I pressed play. His voice filled my apartment. “Baby, stop, I’m not ready—”

"You made it perfect." "But I don't remember any of it." Frustration welled up in my chest. "I'm looking at these photos and I know that's me. I know that's my face, my body, my life. But I don't feel it. I don't feel anything except—" I stopped, pressing my hands over my eyes. "Except confused and broken." "You're not broken." "I forgot my own child, Calloway. I forgot my husband. I forgot two entire years of my life. If that's not broken, I don't know what is."