The room turned black; it spun, and as it moved closer to the tip of my nose, there were white flashes and pixelated spirals from every corner.

I saw myself trapped inside my mind, and someone from the outside pushed it with all his might to confine me. No matter how loud I screamed, the voices merely ricocheted, and it was no use.

When Nathan uttered what seemed to be his goodbye, I lost it. I didn't know what was happening. The confusion in my mind descended to my throat as I said, "If you love me, why would you leave me?" In his eyes, I had always found a place. But this time, I was hardly even welcomed.

Reminiscing those times when all I ever felt when I was with him was love and joy and exceeding ooze of happiness that made you feel like you were ready to die the next day. Being with Nathan was like falling in love with him was a daily check list to tick, but the magic that came along with was so real that it never felt like a chore; not evne once.

But right now, at this very moment, he gazed at me like I was some stranger. He looked me like he erased the memories of our love in a single blink of an eye. It was unbearably horrific to look at someone in the eye and not see them overwhelmed by you, and in their lips and not taste the sparkling flavor of your first times together.

"Nate,  you don't have to leave. We can work this out," I said frantically. I was talking way too fast. "Um...okay. Here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna tell Eric together, and he might not like it right now, but eventually..." I couldn't look straight into his eyes without feeling nervous.

"Avery, you've already lost me. Two years ago."

Chuckling consciously, I replied, "Yeah, I was wrong, I get that. But that was a long time ago, Nate, come on." I begged. "You told me you don't hold grudges."

"I don't," he said.

"Then why are you leaving me? If you love me, why would you leave me, huh?" I spoke in anger. "I mean, why would you even say that?"

"Avery," Nathan attempted to comfort me, holding my face. "No! No, get away from me!" I spat. More tears began to fall as I stepped back away from him, avoiding his touches. "Don't Avery me! You know, you're a monster. You're such a user."

"Listen to me!" Nathan held my face again, and this time, even closer to his, and our noses collided. "No, I don't wanna listen to you. Get away from me." I shook my head. The pain inside my chest echoed four times louder. It was getting harder to breathe when the man whom you thought would never hurt you shot you in the back by surprise.

"I don't want to hurt you anymore," he spoke to me in a serious tone while staring deep at my eyes. "I want you to live the best life, and I want you to be the happiest."

"But you're the only person I want to live and be happy with," I replied, my voice full of faltering hope and sorrow. "No one else. Only you."

Without saying a word, Nathan made me calm in the most mysterious kind of way. His lips touched my forehead but before they landed, I closed my eyes. I always believed a kiss can grow even sweeter when the eyes could see less and feel more. The kiss was a manifestation of the heavens that were hovering over me.

His lips were what heaven felt like.

"Please, Nate. I'm sorry for leaving you two years ago. I made a mistake, I know better now. Believe me." I held onto his arm, not wanting to let go. Looking into his eyes felt stranger every time he didn't look at me back.

"Every minute I spent with you was extraordinary. You are extraordinary, Avery. Your love gave me purpose. Your kisses made me feel loved, and your smile... Damn, your smile," he gazed to my shuddering lips. "It helped me soldier through everything."

Nathan looked down and cleared his throat. He kissed my lips one last time. "Goodbye, Avery."

Watching him walk away to the door brought me more pain than I could even imagine. It was unbearable. My heart broke in its rawness, the sound of shatter pierced through the end of my chest. What horrible sound, my heart cried its loudest; it was the sound of the last, fleeting pumps fighting for the love that was no longer its source of living. The sound of my life ending perpetually — so cold, so fast, so direct like death.

Perhaps it was death I felt. It was neither less or more than death. If losing someone you love was not the feeling of death, then how come many people are afraid to die?

I cried and cried. The door was shut. Then suddenly I no longer heard anything, even the critical sound of my heart breaking. I couldn't determine if it were loneliness or solitude. But one thing's for sure: it was even worse than death. What was worse than death was accepting that you were now utterly alone, and not looking forward to waking up in the morning was something I wished I could think about, even when dreaming.

And in all those years I thought no matter how many times I pushed him away, he would always find my way back to me. I thought our love was unstoppable, that our love was eternal and against all odds. But I was very wrong.

I realized Nathan was never mine to keep. If he were, then I would've been the happiest girl in the world to ever love and be loved by the man of my dreams. A man you can only meet once — a man you could never unmeet, never unfeel, never unlove.

He was so darn special. I never wanted any man besides him. Now that I had lost him, I also had lost the capacity to love as vast as I had ever loved him.

My voice began to feel and sound hoarse. From all the crying, I thought I would've been exhausted enough to send me to sleep. Instead, for hours and hours until there was little light seen from the window, I lied awake on the cold floor, staring into the plain, beige ceiling as my lips were half open. Drops of saliva dried in the right corner of my lips.

Then my phone rang. I ignored it at first, but it rang again and again. Mustering all the strength I had left, I stood up slowly and walked over to the table where my phone was. It was my husband. Eric Greddon. My husband. I was crying this much, I was this afraid to lose someone who should've been him, but wasn't.

Would the pain be this grave if it were Eric who left me? Would it, really?

Finally, I picked up the phone, but not saying anything. I stuttered when I tried to talk to him like nothing was wrong. But like always, Eric knew me better than I know myself. He didn't fall for it.

"Are you crying? What's wrong?" Eric asked with deep concern. I could hear Audrey trying to grab the phone from him. "What happened to Avery? Give me the phone."

"Later. Let me talk to my wife," Eric replied to Audrey in the background. "Avery, tell me what happened. You know you can tell me anything."

"I..." was all I managed to say. I whimpered, trying my hardest not to make a sound so he wouldn't hear. Covering my mouth, I closed my eyes. Another tear fell from my eye.

"I lost him, Eric. I lost him."