Posted at 9:12 PM 0 comments (+) The rain is beating down mercilessly, as it had for the last few days. He sat by the window of the cab, peering out into the curtain of raindrops that blurred everything lying beneath. He could still see her back view, the way it looked as she walked further and further away from him when she left, six months ago.

It was raining on that day as well.

"Look, this can't work anymore. Let's just end it here." She said, not looking into his eyes. He had thought she was too upset, too disgusted with whatever he had done that she could not bring herself to even look at him anymore. 

"Why? What's wrong? What did I do? I'm sorry, baby, can't we talk about this?" He had tugged on her hands, refusing to let go. They were so good together, their relationship was not a perfect one but it had always been enough. Or so he thought.

Where did it go wrong? What had he done? He had no answers to any of these questions. 

"I don't love you anymore. Don't come after me, it is for the best." He could swear he heard her cold voice trembling ever so slightly. She gently but firmly pried his hands off her own. She turned and left with her bags, into the rain, never once looking back. 

He stepped out of the cab, umbrella over his head as he walked towards her with heavy steps. He hadn't seen her even once for the last six months, and calling her always rendered him an answer from her voice mail. Why did they have to meet again in this situation now?

For one week he had refused to leave the house. He lay on the floor of his living room, staring up at the ceiling, with only one question in his mind.

Why?

Time heals all wounds, so he was told. But nope, it doesn't seem to be the case for him. He doesn't feel like dying, he doesn't wake up with thoughts of her anymore. He doesn't torture himself with thoughts about her 24/7 and he actually has fun sometimes, with the other people in his life.

But when he returns home at the end of the day, to an empty apartment that used to be occupied by her and her things, everything still hurts. The memories creep out from behind every dark corner and taunts him, and he swears he could still smell the traces of her perfume in his cold room, could still see her in every corner.

He stops as he stood in front of her, looking down for one moment before bending his legs to a squat.

"Hello." That day the sun was actually shining brightly outside the house, and he was in a good enough mood to answer semi-cheerfully into the phone when it rang. He was at peace with being by himself by now, he wasn't quite planning to get out to enjoy the beautiful day.

"She's gone." 

His heart stopped beating from that moment on, he didn't get the full picture immediately but he was speechless. It took a few more lines from the familiar voice on the phone before it dawned on him, and he let the receiver slip from his hand and crash noisily onto the floor.

"No. No no no no."

"You should have told me." He said, reaching a shaky hand out to touch the stone's cold surface.

There was really nothing he could do now. Nothing that would bring her back.

He let the umbrella fall to his side, the rain instantly soaking up the dryness of every inch of him. His tears slid down the side of his face, unnoticeable as it mixed with the rain.

"You should have told me."