The last box

So, I wrote a short story called “The last box”. It was supposed to be my work submission for a writing prompt about moving away. It’s a short story based on romantic feelings in a friendship. Not a very original story, right ? Well, every story needs to be written i guess.

So here it is. Any feedbacks, good or bad, are appreciated.

Thank you for reading.

This was the last box left. The last sign of life in this appartment. You left this morning with all of your belongings. All the things that I owned were now gone too, letting the emptiness filled the place. Our place. Only the memories we shared were left behind the walls.

As the sun was setting, I stood between these walls for the last time. I couldn’t help myself and remember the time we spent here, together. I remember how easy it was at first.

The first time we met. I fell off my bike just in front of your house. You were the 5 years old little girl who held her hand out for me to take, asking me if I was okay. You helped me to be back up on my feet in no time. My knight in shining armor.

The first time I stood up for you. You were my best friend by that time. The most important person in my life. I remember the day you told your parents you liked girls. They didn’t take it quite well. A lot of tears were being shed that day. If they couldn’t accept you and love you for who you really were, I could. And I did. I loved you inconditionnally.

The first time we moved in together. We were in our sophomore year of college. We were so excited about actually living together. It was going to be amazing, sharing my life with my favorite person in the whole world.

The first time you kissed me. I remember how we danced so well together all night that time. We were coming back home, as drunk as we could be. As I was locking the door behind us, you backed me up against it. I remember you said you « coudn’t wait any longer to kiss me ». You leaned in and captured my lips softly. We never talked about that kiss the morning after.

The first night we spent together. We were in the bathroom. You were trying to comfort me about my recent break-up with your stupid jokes. You were satisfied when you heard me chuckle at your dumb attempts. Then, you told me he was « an idiot for letting a girl like – me – go away. »and kissed me softly. It was the first time that I felt my heart beating so fast with you. Or maybe I was lying to myself. I kissed you back instantly. You carried me to the bed. You were so sweet and considerate. You murmured in my ear « do you realise how beautiful you are ? ». As I looked into your eyes, I realised that as long as you were with me, everything would be perfect.

But things got complicated and we started to drift apart eventually.

The first time we fought over something stupid. You were cooking my favorite meal when you received a text from that girl you met a few weeks ago and cancelled our plans for the night. Not that we really had plans. I overreacted. You told me I was « jealous and crazy ». Of course I was jealous. You flew out of the door. You came back two days later, apologizing for your behavior.

The first time you said « I love you ». We were on the couch, watching my favorite movie for the 100th time. I remember all too well. I was comfortably wrapped in the warmth of your arms, on the verge to fall asleep. You kissed my temple and said those three words quietly, thinking I was asleep. I never heard you say it again.

The first time you lied to me. We were talking on the balcony after our long day. I was confused about our relationship. As I asked you to define what we were doing, I saw the fear in your eyes. You tried to say something before closing your mouth again. Eventually, you said that we were just having fun, right ?. I think words wasn’t necessary to understand what I was feeling the moment you said it. It wasn’t until you said « it’s better if we stop whatever this is now, before there’s feelings involved » that I realised how much it hurted. We were there, staring at each other while the silence surrounded us.

This was the first time you break my heart too. It was too hard to stay and behave like nothing happened. A few weeks later, the silence between us was unbearable. Finally, we decided to go separate ways and move away from each other.

I remember all of the first times we had together. The ones which gave me joy. The ones which hurted me. I don’t think I will ever forget them. As I will never forget you.

The last rays of sun was piercing through the window of the living room when I realised it. When the last sunbeam sets, it will be time to go. It will be time to say goodbye to this place, to this life with you.

I’ll never hear your voice coming from your bedroom in the morning, groaning because it’s time to get up. I’ll never see your sleepy face walking into the kitchen, reaching for your first cup of coffee of the day. I’ll never see your pretty smile pop up through the bathroom’s door, urging me to finish whatever i’m doing so we can head out for the night. I’ll never get to hold you in my arms after you had a nightmare. I’ll never get to tell you how I really felt when I was with you. I’ll never get to say those three little words. I’ll never get to say « I love you ».

No. I wasn’t ready to let go of all those memories we shared. I wasn’t ready to let go of this place. Our place. I wasn’t ready to let you go. But I knew I had to.

Maybe you were right when you said « not every story gets to have an happy ending. ». I wish you were wrong.

One last look.

One last breath.

As I was locking the front door behind me, I knew I was locking this part of my life between those walls too.

It was time to move on.



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