In bed, wearing the same clothes as I did the day before, the only light that breaks the darkness comes from the TV on mute.
I could’ve looked at you forever. Our eye contact was unmistakably unique; a connection between two people that left no space for anyone else.
Sometimes I still roll over and reach out to pull you close, but all I find are the tucked in sheets and a cold pillow from where you used to lay.
Sometimes I swear I catch you from the corner of my eye, though, if I’m being honest, I stopped looking. I prefer to think you might actually be there.
My dreams have become the screen playing my favourite memories of you. Sometimes waking up has become the worst part of my day.
You constantly said too much. I wish I could’ve been the same. All I can think about are words I didn’t say.
I love you. I miss you. Fuck, I don’t know where to go from here or what it is I’m supposed to do. I’m completely lost, out of place, angry, and sad.
I want to relive it all over again, start it back from the very first moment we crossed paths, even if we didn’t know what that moment would mean.
I want to watch every little thing that had to happen to bring us together, want to be shocked by all of life’s foreshadowing I missed.
I’m going to make you proud of me. I’m going to be strong soon, I promise, and get the fuck out of bed, just not today.
Today I just want to be left alone, wearing my favourite sweater that you used to borrow that somehow still smells like you, remembering ‘us’ that's us spelled with a capital ‘you’.
- Jeff Moore
*borrowed from Californication - remembering ‘us’ that's us spelled with a capital ‘you’
