Work Text:
Maybe I’ve always felt too safe with you, and that’s why I never thought you’d truly leave.
The drum set that you bought is still here. In the corner of the room, a sickening display, as it fails to fill the emptiness that you’ve managed to stage with your departure.
I remember those mornings when you still used to be here. You’d sometimes come back smelling like another man’s cologne. I didn’t mind, or at least, I tried not to think too much of it. Because as long as you decided to come back, what more could I complain about?
The smell of bacon and eggs sizzling against the pan. It would mask the lingering scents on your body. The coffee, bitter, swirling. That was enough, wasn’t it?
I pretended to be asleep while you cooked. I don’t know why. Maybe because I didn’t want to have you cook more for me. Instead, I’d pad over gently once you started plating. I would open my mouth with my demands, and somehow, for whatever reason, you’d always provide.
How kind. Had you known I was awake then, too?
We really never knew how to communicate. I hated that about us. Despite everything, all the affection and love, somehow we’d never managed to speak up.
I wonder how you are now. If you’re happier with him.
Were you ever happy with me?
You got me gifts. A lot of them. Even if they’re just small, ordinary things like figurines and plastic. I liked them. I still have them now. But I never got you much, did I? What the hell was I doing?
Was I a leech? Was I taking more than what I deserved? Did you feel lonely when you were with me? Did you resent me for not being able to give you what you needed?
What did you need? Why didn’t you ever tell me?
Is it that you never actually felt safe with me like you do with him instead?