A/N: This is my first story I’ve posted on here. I’m still trying to figure out what to do…anyways…I hope you enjoy. I do thrive on reviews.

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When he left me, a part of me died. My life suddenly spiraled downwards into chaos, and my heart refused to love. Anything that once held a splendor or goodness in my eyes had suddenly become dark and depressing. Anything that reminded me of him made my heart stop. Memories would flood back. For one fleeting moment, I would smile, but then it would fade down into realization that I would never have him again.

I loved him. He was my everything. He was my life, my air, my happiness, my sorrow, my tears, my joy, my love, and my hate. He held me close by my very heartstrings. I knew I would be reduced to nothing without him. And just as soon as he had come, he was gone. And I became nothing again.

What we had, was so real, so true, and so meaningful. Yet it was all lies. None of it ever existed. It was only a web he weaved to lure me into a false sense of truth. To him, it was nothing. Yet to me, it was everything. When he left, he never batted an eyelash. But I had died. My heart stopped, and I became lifeless. I became numb. A heart became a black hole which sucked in things that made me happy so that when they came out, they were dark and tainted. The world moved while I stayed behind. I wanted to live again, but all joy in life paled in comparison to what we once had.

I remembered everything that we had shared. Every laugh, every word, every pause, and every smile. The world was the canvas, and we were the artists. We painted a picture that was forever imprinted in my mind. No matter how many times I tried to blink it away, it came flashing back, bringing on a fresh wave of pain and tears.

He had left me.

I knew I shouldn’t let a man control my life and tell me what I’m worth. But I did. I had hung on to his every word like it was a drug. I relied heavily on what he said. With every compliment, I felt more stunning to the world. But every silence was filled with unasked questions and pointless fears. I loved him so much that the beating of his heart became my very own life support. And as soon as he was gone, that machine went dead. I was left to breathe on my own by using my own two lungs. Every part of me felt alone and deprived. I was divided into two beings. One half was who I used to be. The other half was with him. I was incomplete without him by my side. I was lost without his voice to guide me. I was numb without his loved which had been ripped away from me.

When we were together, we had so much. Every spare moment we had was filled together. Every second apart, we were thinking of the other. Each moment made our love even stronger until it was spoiled. Our time together was always valued, and when curfews intervened, we spent our minutes apart on the phone. But of course, that was back when things were fine and dandy. Life, however complicated it may be now, was perfect. There were no fears for he was there with me. I never doubted or questioned the strength of our love until it was gone. It had disappeared along with my ability to give a damn about anything else in my life.

There was not much point anymore for me. I lived my days as a zombie, floating from place to place. Life was one pathetic ride that wasn’t stopping anytime soon. At seventeen years old, I had already given up on the hope to live properly again. The world had lost it’s appeal and it seemed like I had lost a part of my soul with it. He was gone. He wasn’t coming back. A broken heart was an understatement. I had a shattered heart, which I had sloppily taped back together to I could function normally.

I doubt that a mindless clone of something that was once filled with unparalleled joy would cover as normal.

Our love was so beautiful. I never felt more alive in his arms. But once he had left me, I was vulnerable, weak, and broken. I was a breathing corpse. I had died.

All because he left me...