The memories of our love now taunt me like a ghostly shadow on the wall. You played “You and I” by Ricky Ricky, the same song that once serenaded our love, but now it’s a requiem for what we had. The black rose on your screen saver, a symbol of our withering love, replaced the photo of me, the one that once brought a smile to your face.

I was once the sunshine that brightened your day, but now I’m a dark cloud that brings rain on a summer’s day. You’d gaze at me with eyes that adored, but now your gaze pierces through me like a cold wind. My body, once a canvas of beauty, now a flawed masterpiece. You’d say I’m not enough, that my curves are no longer desirable.

You’d ask me about mini skirts, knowing full well the scars that I bear, the stretch marks that tell the story of my struggles. Your words, a dagger to my heart, a reminder of my imperfections. You’d say you’d be embarrassed if you had a belly like mine, but I knew it was just a reflection of the new love you’d found. A tiny, petite thing, a doll-like girl who wears mini skirts with ease. You’d compare me to her, a cruel reminder that I’ll never be enough.

Your words cut deep, “Reacting to what I’ve done won’t make me like you, no one will ever like someone like you.” The pain stings, a bitter pill to swallow. You’d say no one will find me attractive, that I’m not worthy of love. And in that moment, I believed you. The doubts crept in, like a thief in the night, stealing my confidence, my self-worth.

I’m left with the shattered remains of my heart, the pieces scattered like autumn leaves. I’m lost, alone, and broken. The memories of our love now haunt me, a constant reminder of what I’ll never have again. The darkness closes in, a heavy shroud that suffocates me. I’m drowning in a sea of despair, with no lifeline in sight.

The soundtrack of our love has ended, and the silence is deafening.