I knew what hope of having a love was. There were many people in my life whom have showed me that. But before you, none of them had ever ripped it apart.
It didn't happen when you ignored me on Whatsapp.
It didn't happen when I found out on Facebook, later.
It didn't happen, neither, when you saw me at the bus and didn't come to explain (like I always thought you would, because you were like that to me: an honest guy. And your bright eyes and blond hair, oh man, I swear. You made me feel like, perhaps, someday I'd be able to accept myself. Because I thought you did.).
It happened when we got out of the bus and, in front of me, walking like a soldier, with your Hood threw over your head and your back turned to me, you walked to your place. And all I could do was walk behind you.
That day, that moment alone, I broke. I was a person who have been shattered to pieces before, times and times again and I was so used to it. But what you did was so different. I literally stopped caring. I saw you going away. I saw you turn and enter your house. I saw it.
The end of my life, was there. I let you hold my emotions and happiness and you walked away with them, in a perfect posture and without looking back. You were so different, so not yourself and comparing to you then, I can say a robot seems to have a lot more of life and emotions.
You walked away.
You found happiness with someone else, you weren't intimidated by their difference and you went with them.
I was left behind. No tears. No pain. Just a sudden enormous feeling of loss making me lose all my strength and almost collapse in the street. I broke.
And the worst? The worst is that: A) I let you go because your happiness was my goal; and B) you had something of mine with you then and you refuse to give it back. And it is(was) something very important to me.