She looks at him over her bare shoulder, and he looks back at her. Her eyes are likethe moonlight, and he remembers falling in love with them. But they are different now. And her short hair is uneven. And she is beautiful. But they are both hurting, and between two evils, they have to pick the lesser.

/

So you get dressed. You put on the clothes you came in, but see one of your shirts over the chair. You take it, and pull it over your head. You try to act cool when all you want is to have your picture back in the empty frame on his nightstand.

He still looks at you, not moving from his spot on the bed. You wonder what he is thinking about, and you suddenly want to lay down again, but you know you can't. You know you shouldn't, and you hate that it feels right doing the wrong thing.

There is something so powerless about sleeping with your ex. A secret part of you does this because you want them to love you again as they did, so that they won't want to be with anyone else.

You feel like crying because you realize that giant hole in your heart can't be mended with physical action. You miss all of him, and you don't want the memory to go away. But after what you did, you feel like he is not there anymore. Like the person that looks exactly like him is not anything more than a complete stranger.

You hadn't shed many tears since you officially broke up, but you feel like they are surfacing now.

You sit at the edge of the bed, and he sits up. You look at each other, desperate to feel anything you've felt before. You run a hand through your hair, and he watches your movement as you do. You sigh, and he looks at your lips. He scratches his shoulder, and your gaze flickers there.

You both want to reach out, but neither dares. Because you feel empty, and you start writing poems in your head. But then you stop yourself. You snap into the horrible reality, and you sigh deeply. You don't want to leave.

But you were never good at making decisions. So you kiss him on the lips, on the nose, and on the cheeks. And he grips your hand as you tell him goodbye. And you start to leave, just because you feel like you shouldn't.