Almost.

Almost.

Sometimes it was hard to feel the emotions evoked by words, but other times, it was so simple as if I could just drag a finger across the word, and the ink would somehow touch that beating part of me more than anything else could.

I bit my bottom lip, letting the word that had been reverberating in my mind come to the surface. My fingers curled into the linen covers of my mattress as I tilted my head up and closed my eyes. "It's okay," I whispered to myself, "It's fine." Nothing was set in stone yet and there was nothing that told me now that my chances were gone. All I had to do was pick up the phone and dial that number that was ingrained in my mind and maybe — just maybe — everything would go back to the way that I wanted it to be.

My fingers trembled as I pushed at each button, then held the phone to my ear. It went on for countless rings until an automated voice received my silent pleas: "your call has been forwarded to an automated voice message system..."

I hung up and called again, swallowing as my throat constricted.

Please, please, please, please...

The other end beeped, but no one said anything.

I took in a shuddering breath, then opened my mouth to speak. "Mia?"

"You know your calls aren't welcome."

Tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, I licked my lips, trying to find a way to respond. "I - I know, it's just that —"

A sigh cut me off. "Luce, you know I love you, but it's too late for you to do anything."

It's too late for you to do anything.

"No," I was denying the truth. I didn't want to believe that what she was saying was right. Somehow, I regretted my decision to call. I regretted everything that led up to this moment. "No, Mia. You're lying. That's not true."

"He's gone, Luce. Don't try and fool yourself again."

I gripped the phone in one hand as I raked my fingers through my messy locks. Dread had started to seep into my skin, filling my veins with poison. "No —"

"Maybe if you had called a few hours ago, he'd stay. You almost made it."

You almost made it.

Almost.

Dragging the phone from my ear, I dropped my hand on the mattress. The phone slid from my fingers, and I couldn't even hear that dull thud as it came into contact with the dirty carpet of the old apartment place I had found abandoned a few weeks ago. I wanted to feel something, but it was so, so empty inside — so dull, as if my emotions had been muted.

My body fell back onto the bed, and I stared up at the ceiling as it blurred before me.

How sad it was — that word "almost."

To think that you were so close, but then everything just slips from between your fingers.

I thought I wasn't too late.

I thought I could make it.

I thought I finally could.

Laughter spilled out into the air. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes as my face contorted.

"My God," I whispered, "Almost."

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.