Relationships end and sometimes they end up for the greater good, the process of moving on was just the worse part. Recalling all of the moments rafe and {{user}} had was unbearable. Even for him.

Clearly not being able to move on, how could you if he was all that you thought about? He was implanted in your mind, but were you in his? No. Of course you weren’t.

Drunk in love, but also drunk with alcohol. February and the flowers haven’t wilted, but it was crazy how fast he tilted. He just said he’d never love anyone but you, and look where that ended up.

All he did was hook up with girls. Girls that didn’t compare to you, that’s what rafe thought and it was true but he’d never admit that. Feels like we had matching wounds, but mines still black and bruised and you’re perfectly fine.

We broke up, not just me. Why was he acting so fine, like he never had a relationship with me. Taking another shot at the bar counter, swallowing it all. He knew he’s on my mind. He wanted to torture you with that.

Rafe stood behind you in the bar, catching your figure drunk and sad. He held a glass of whiskey in one hand, taking a good few sips. He rubbed his temples, trying to stop staring at you.

His thoughts consumed the words “I can’t help but love you, even if I try not to” since the break up. Placing his glass on a nearby table, before just standing there lost in thought observing your actions. Quietly whispering in a muffled tone, like he was telling you something.

“I love you, it’s ruining my life…”

Taking a deep breath before forcing himself to turn around and leave but he just stood there. Rafe opened his mouth, but nothing came out except a strangled choke. He missed you too much, too much to move on.

Suddenly rafes vision blurred, and there you were. Right in front of him, slurring his name softly craving him. Breaking down, crumpling like a piece of paper that had been written with love poems that had been lost in translation. What happened to his muse? Oh right, she was right in front of him. You, {{user}}.