The Thing about Falling ✓

Forty • Temporary

Athena

After a few months in college, my boyfriend broke up with me.

I found it funny how I cried over a guy when I tried so hard to put up a strong, independent woman façade every damn time. It was tiring since I wasn't as strong and independent as I thought I was.

I dropped by our room as soon as I got back from home.

I went a day ahead of him, at least from what I know from our common friends.

It was weird going into the room where it happened. Where everything happened.

I stared at it as I stood around the doorway, my hands tracing the edges of the doorframe. I sighed and let my tired eyes wander further into the smaller details of the room.

It was a little more spacious than an average university dorm room because of the disability accommodations. It had enough space for the both of us, but I felt kinda bad since it my stuff took up the most space.

It had two of our beds side by side each other, although they hadn't been arranged this way the first time we came. They had been pushed against opposite sides of the room then, but I insisted we push them right beside each other after the first week because I was homesick.

He was my only connection to home that time. Of course I would like him close by.

I smiled sadly once all those memories of me pushing our beds side by side infiltrated my mind, resurfacing that instance when Owen seriously bought popcorn and soda just to watch me fix our room layout that time.

"Sorry I can't help. I'm here for moral support though." Owen once said with a cheeky smile as his mouth was full of popcorn.

I shook my head and then proceeded to remove some of the room decor I put up on my side of the room.

My side was more like a Pinterest board and his was like something from a house catalogue.

I walked slowly, eyeing the side of the wall where I put up high school memorabilia, posters and postcards, and yes, the ever so Gen Z polaroids.

I stood in front of them now, and I felt my hands hesitate to reach out and remove them from the wall. I stared at them, remembering the importance they once had.

Owen liked photos. He used to have a wall full of them back at his room in junior year. Well, he did, before he let me rip them out and unveil what was printed on the other side.

I shuddered at the memory of those.

It was haunting, and I never want to see anyone, especially him, get hurt ever again. Even now.

Going back, I slowly took off the posters and post cards I had. They didn't have that much significance anyway, aside from being there for aesthetic purposes.

I had trouble removing the polaroids, though.

They were there, staring at me like a ghost of my past.

If I had so many polaroids back in my own room at home, they were fewer here, but they hold greater meaning.

One was of me, Aunt Lydia, and our dog, Maxie.

God, I miss them so much now. I put up a finger to trace my aunt's features and also, my dog's. Owen loved my dog. I had a hunch Maxie loved him more than she loves me.

I sighed, and slowly took it off the wall, carefully removing the tape that clung to the back.

Next was of me and my friends.