I came back home to the scene of you lying lazily on the couch, flipping channels on the TV. "Hey," I said, but you didn't answer. Cool, maybe you didn't hear me. I took off my heels and purposefully let them fell from my hands to the floor. The sound made you flinched, but you kept your eyes on the screen.
I kinda hovered (I don't know why I describe it as hovering, maybe because my audible footsteps didn't even make you turn around) and slumped myself beside you. I played with your hair, whispered "I miss you" in your left ear. You mumbled something like "me too". Maybe you thought I was being too clingy, maybe you were tired, maybe you were troubled and you needed some space. So I kissed your forehead and went upstairs.
Or maybe you thought I was kidding when I told you I missed you? I thought of that while I was showering. So I reached for my phone and typed "I really do" and sent it to you. I quickly regretted it, though. Maybe I was too clingy, maybe I overreacted, maybe I thought too much, maybe I was too childish. Your "Do what?" reply confirmed that.
I put on my new dress and that perfume that you liked. I went downstairs and hugged you from behind. "Hey, what's the matter?" I spoke. It took you a few seconds to say "nothing". "Are you okay, sweetheart?" I put my hands on his cheeks but you pushed them away.
Later, I found myself strolling alone at the park I loved so much. You must know where it is, the one I told you about, the one we went to when I wanted to share the night sky with you. I sat on the bench and looked at the sky. Maybe you were tired when you replied "I'm bored of us." earlier. Maybe I didn't love you enough, because I managed to laugh it off and said "Me too." Maybe you were bitter ever since we fought about whose problems were bigger. Maybe it was my loud mouth or maybe it was my silence. Maybe we had spent less time together. At that exact moment, it rained. As I watched raindrops accumulating on my new dress, I laughed at how I was crying.
Maybe we've both stopped trying.