I came home today and there was little trace that you'd ever even existed as a part of my life. Your shelf was cleaned out in the closet. All the piles of your laundry were missing from the stacks that were scattered on the floor. No one would ever notice, but I knew they were gone. There's an empty spot on the top shelf of my closet where your Guitar Hero instruments had sat. I walked into the bathroom and the drawer that had your toothbrush, hair product and cologne were gone. Seeing your things gone struck me in a way that made me inhale and quickly catch my breath. In that moment I caught a whiff of your cologne. And it made my heart hurt. I walked back into my bedroom and looked around. I saw my robe laying on my bed, just as I'd left it. I looked at it and wondered if you'd even picked it up to smell the collar, which I know holds the scent of my shampoo and perfume, or was exiting my life easy for you? I looked at my pillow hoping you'd left whatever tshirt you'd been wearing when you cleared your things from my home so that I could sleep in it. Smell it. Close my eyes and imagine you here. But you hadn't. Suddenly I felt so exhausted, alone and vulnerable. I unzipped my jeans, slid them off and grabbed a blanket off the couch. I buried my face into a pillow and slept for three hours this afternoon, in a ball, on my couch. When I awoke it was dark outside and as I blinked the distorted figures around me into focus, I found myself looking for you.

This isn't easy for me. I know it's right, right now, but it certainly isn't easy. And I hope it isn't as easy for you as you make it look. To think I meant anything less than everything to you after all you said breaks my heart. I hope, too, that if we do come to be again in the future, that we can be the best versions of ourselves for each other.

I just saw your key laying by the door. The exhaustion I felt earlier is back. My body aches and the last thing I want to do is crawl into my bed without you tonight. I feel like you don't even notice I'm missing.