It almost felt like it had rained for a week now. Though I remember the bright, sunny afternoons, I couldn't remember the heat. Once again, I threw myself down onto the bed which felt oddly stiff and cold, as though it had forgotten me from the night before. Every single time that I turned to look at my packed bags, I felt a certain familiar stirring deep within my soul, like traces of nostalgia from memories I couldn't remember. Two large totes, to be exact. Not much for a lifetime of lovers and strangers.
I stood up to go, flipping open the cover of my mobile phone for one last time. No calls. No messages. Only the time telling me that it was 4:56pm. Outside, the rain wouldn't stop. I shuddered at how grey and empty the house felt as I swung the bags over my shoulder, chucking the phone onto the unmade bed. I had no use for it anymore.
Locking the doors behind me, I pulled the hood of my navy jumper over my head and walked out into the rain. From a distance, I thought I heard the tune of what once was your ringtone - The Pretender's 'I'll Stand by You' - echoing from inside the house.
But I kept on walking.
