One last time

He kissed me, one last time. His mouth slid across my face, making it to my mouth. My lips pressed against his, and it felt so good, like it used to be. I wouldn’t let him leave.
He tried to push me away.
I wouldn’t let him go, holding on to his jacket.
I couldn’t listen to him.
“I have to go.”
“Goodbye,” he said again, giving me a rather violent shove, leaving me crumpled on the ground. I could see his face though, that it pained him to do this.

It was, I thought, the last word I would ever say to him.

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