I sure as hell don’t miss you but I miss when I was with you.
It’s been exactly a week. Are you counting the days like I am? Are you wondering if you have the will power to really follow through, to cut me off and pretend the past six months didn’t change your life? Everyone is begging me to forget you. To write you off like you did me.
But there’s still a hint of your scent on my pillows and the lingering heavy air of what was so perfect for such a small moment.