I found you ready, surveying the place with packed bags at your feet.

I remember my disbelief; how I had laughed at your words, not taking them seriously. I remember the feeling of the corners of my lips turning downwards, my smile faltering as your serious tone registered in my brain. You had always been the smart one. I remember the hollow laugh leaving my lips, the emptiest sound I'd ever uttered in my short twenty-six year life. I remember the sound of the door clicking shut. I remember the click of your heels against the floor, the rolling noise made by your luggage as you left me. I remember the freezing darkness envelop my heart, the traces of warmth you always provided slithering away. I remember silently begging for them to return. For you to return.

You didn't.

I guess I should've seen it coming.

My love for you used to be a passionate flame, igniting our hearts and bodies at each other's touch. Over time, the flame started to flicker with every gust of wind. Some moments, it felt like a match reignited the once blazing fire of our love. Timber added to the flames, stoking the fire. Moments like that, I had hope that the flame would last throughout our entire lives. Moments like that made me wonder what you would look like with a ring on your finger. Our love was a blazing inferno.

He was the rain that extinguished it.

I was a fool.

The day I met him, the man who would ultimately end the relationship of me and my soul mate, I was oblivious to the doom he would cause in my future. Of course, at seven years old, I did not know a single thing of the troubles my future self would face. I did not know the boy I had newly proclaimed as my best friend would cause such emotional turmoil. At seven years old, I did not know the enormous betrayal I was to face nineteen years into the future. I did not know the brown-eyed, curly-haired boy who shared his chocolate milk and cookies with me were to whisper lies and lure the love of my life away from my arms and into his.

My best friend betrayed me.

I was a mess.

The day you left, I just stayed at home. I sat on the couch, in the exact position I was in when you left, staring at the door. I was numb. The wound sliced so deeply it tore my nerves, I could not feel. Not anymore. I was empty, a mere shadow of the woman I was when you were there. Blank, emotionless. It was like you were never there. She found me that way. She pulled me out of my stupor and took care of me. She stayed with me.

Something you never did.

My love with her is not a raging inferno.

My love with her is the ocean; at times chaotic, at times calm. It is always there, never fading, never ceasing to amaze me. It is beautiful, no matter what state it is in. The ocean does not destroy, it gives livelihood. It snuffs out flames. I do not ever have to wonder what she looks like with a ring on her finger. Not anymore.

My love with her overcomes any kind of feeling I ever had for you.