Prompt: Start a story with "I remember the day"

​I remember the day she left — the closed door I waited to reopen, the kinetic energy that escaped with her and the stillness of the apartment in the wake of her decision.

I sat on the couch and watched as the shadows moved across the wall until the basement apartment wrapped me in its darkness. I lacked the motivation to switch on the lights long after the sun had gone down.

I replayed the conversation in my mind, questioning if it was really possible for four years to end in 20 minutes.

She’d surprised me. The softness that seemed so imbedded within her spirit was replaced with a stoicism I hadn’t seen before. She wasn’t going to melt into me this time. She wasn’t going to apologize for bringing it up at all and ask me three more times that evening, ‘we’re good, right?’

No, this time she turned her body away from me when I reached out toward her. This time, the gentleness that cushioned these talks in past was all steel. This time, I knew I wasn’t going to sit next to her on the couch, smoothing her hair and watching her sip tea while we both let the tension of the argument unwind out of our bodies.

“I tried,” I told her.

“How?” she asked.

She must have known I’d have no response because she was already walking toward the door before I could answer.

She’d planned our dates that month, like she always did. The flowers on the table, just starting to turn, she’d purchased as well. Our fridge was filled with things she’d made for us: cucumber salad, lavender syrup, kimchi.

Even the apartment we shared, she’d found, sharing listings with me long before I’d been convinced that living together was a good idea. She’d decorated it and imbued a warmth within the rooms that was nothing short of miraculous given my recollection of the small, gloomy space we had walked through during the open house. I’d counted it out, but she assured me it had potential.

She’d always had a knack for seeing the potential in things which was something I loved about her. I knew she’d seen potential in me, but I’d never been able to live up to it.