The beginning.

I sat there, eagerly watching out the window while carefully balancing on the sill. The rain fell steadily as I ran my hand down the window. The fifteen minute wait felt as though it was taking hours. I watched the headlights slowly round the corner and fall down the hill, casting an almost eerie light over the glistening grass. The blinker cuts on, a small black car pulls into the drive. I sit and wait a moment, watching the person in the car collecting themself and stare blankly into the night. The car shuts off, I see them take a deep breath, the door opens, and there he stands.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?"
"Can you honestly say that you love me?"
"I can."
"Then, yes. I've never been so certain."
"As long as you feel comfortable."
"Love, I've never been so comfortable with anyone in my life."

A year later, I sit balancing myself in the same sill, looking out the same window. I watch several cars round the same corner, fall down the hill and emitt an evenly dispersed light over the road, banks, and grass. I realize now that when I said I had never been so comfortable with someone in my life, I honestly meant it. Not only I was comfortable in the sense that I was sure you were the one, the one that was different, the one that was supposed to complete me; I was comfortable living day to day knowing that when I started to feel lonely you would be right there. There's been something missing for the better portion of the past 6 months. It's like a puzzle that has lost one of it's pieces.



Today, I threw the puzzle away.