I tried a go at the door but he blocked the way. He cornered me and said:

– Anna, please! – He was really pleading, begging almost.

What was this? What else did he want from me?

– No! – I said, already in tears.

– Please! Just look at me, look at me in the eyes!

– I can’t! Can’t you see how much you hurt me? How broken I am? What else do you want from me?

– I don’t want your pain! – I could hear his voice breaking. – Your pain hurts me too, look at me! – He was definitely crying now. I looked up, into his eyes. I could already feel how he won. – I know I caused that pain and it hurts me possibly even more than it hurts you. Can’t you see it? – He was right. Now that I REALLY saw him I noticed I wasn’t the only one that had been crying for months. He looked even worse that I did, and I looked horrible. He closed his eyes, placed his forehead in mine and kept going. – I don’t want your pain. – Whispering now. –  I want to try and make you forget it. I want a second chance. I want to try and earn your trust again. I want to try and be your source of happiness once more. I want to make you love me again.

– Love you again? – I asked. He opened his eyes again but kept his forehead in place. – Why do you think it keeps hurting so much? I haven’t stopped loving you, I don’t think I can. That’s why it hurts. I’ll never stop loving you.

He kissed me then, a melancholic, hungry kiss, full with tears and nostalgy and desperation, like when you drink water after you’ve been lost in the desert for ages.