Together 

Here’s your story with proper paragraphing and a few minor grammar fixes:

Together, as of today, we would never be apart again. We will always be together…

Another night of spooning you, hugging you tight to my body, the warmth of our bodies meeting together is my favorite feeling in the world. I never want to let you go. I slowly close my eyes, that warmth being a constant reminder I’m with you, and I’m safe. But that warmth slowly fades. My eyes open—you’re putting on your clothes and getting ready?

I call out in a tired voice, “What are you doing?”

You reply in a soft, sweet voice, “I’m getting ready for work, hun.”

I look at the clock, and it’s already 9 a.m. But all I want is for you to be next to me, to feel that warmth again. Just a little longer. “Can you stay home today…? Please…” I reply in a weak tone. You just laugh at me. You. Laughed.

I’m pleading with you, begging you. I don’t want you to leave. If you leave, how will I know you’re real? If I can’t constantly feel you, how will I know you exist? If I can’t be by you, do you even love me? Am I being selfish? I just want you here with me.

“Please…” I call out again.

You’ve always been so understanding and patient with me. I could never hate you, ever. You spray some of your perfume onto one of your shirts and toss it to me. This is what started my unhealthy addiction. You always did know how to solve every problem. I’m just sorry this is how you chose to solve this one.

When you leave, I hold the shirt against me, putting it over my face—it’s you. As long as I close my eyes, it’s you. I put my arm through the sleeve and act as if it’s yours, laying on it, rubbing it. It’s like you never left, and I never wanted you to leave. But that didn’t solve my problem for long.

I would always caress your hair, but when I reached out for you, it broke the illusion. I waited for you to get home, so patiently. I tackled you onto the bed—I missed you so much. This time, when we slept, I cut a piece of your hair. When you left, I kept it beside me, along with your shirt. It worked, but not for long. I needed more. I needed more of you. Why couldn’t you commit to me like I’ve committed to you?

I never leave, I never even get up to eat or drink. This bed has become my prison. All I do is sleep all day, but as long as it’s with you, I don’t mind. I just want to sleep beside you, lay beside you, every second.

This time, when you got home, I didn’t see that familiar sweet look in your eye. You yelled at me. Scolded me. Did you hate me? You saw the chunk of hair I had stolen. You were furious, but why with me? Can’t I do no wrong? Aren’t I the love of your life? I don’t understand how you can get angry at me. Do you hate me? You hate me now. I see it. I see it in your eyes.

“Levy, you’re literally having an episode again. Look at you, you’re starving yourself, rotting away in bed, doing nothing but sleeping?! You cut a piece of my f***ing hair!! It’s not cute anymore, it’s f***ing creepy, Levy. Grow up and do something with your life!”

I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t say a word. You hated me. You say you still love me, but I see it in your eyes. I could never yell at you. How could you yell at me? You just walked out on me. You walked away. You left. You took the shirt, you took the hair. You don’t have work, but you left. You really left. I can’t stand being away from you. Can you really just do it that easily?

I knew what I had to do.

Hours passed; it felt like days. I still hadn’t gotten up from this bed, but you finally came back. You apologized for getting upset, but I knew you hated me. You held your arms out for a hug at the door. I got up, my muscles atrophied from never moving, stumbling over to embrace you. I never wanted to let go, but you eventually backed out.

We got ready for bed. I grabbed a few things before laying down beside you, hugging you again. My eyes slowly closed, but that warmth never faded. You stayed. You never left me. You actually did love me…

I slowly woke up. You were still there. I put my arms around your body. I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for this feeling. I slowly drifted back to sleep, but eventually… that warmth disappeared again. When I opened my eyes, you were still there.

You were cold. I didn’t understand. A horrible odor filled the air. It didn’t smell like you now. I tried to reach out to grab your perfume, put it on you…but I couldn’t move my arm. I could barely move at all. I tilted your chin toward me. Your eyes were white, your skin yellow and rotting, your corpse cold, and your heart had no pulse. Your head was bleeding severely. Your scalp had come upwards and was only partially attached, your hair ragged and cut up.

I looked down—my arm stapled to your waist, my leg attached to the back of yours, my stomach connected to your backside. I remembered now. It came rushing back to me. You didn’t stay. You didn’t come back and apologize. You left me.

I was furious. At you. I couldn’t believe I got angry at you. I had to punish myself, but make sure this would never happen again.

Three nights ago, I grabbed a hammer. I could barely lift it, my muscles rotting in my own body. I stumbled slowly to your apartment on the floor below mine—I had a key. I always loved how heavy you slept. No matter how much noise or movement I made, you would stay asleep. I grabbed the hammer with both hands and slammed the back end onto your skull, pulling it upwards.

I grabbed two staplers. I laid down beside you in your bed and made sure we would never be apart again. And shall death never do us part—together we are, together we will be.

(Credits to my fiancé for this one😋)