Everything I am not (!)
Broken
Less for loving more
A failure for caring; still, even though
Drowning and
Gasping for closure
Begging for a bit of kindness
Starving, and
Grateful for the breadcrumbs
Understood
Sleepless and
Rage-cleaning my bathroom at midnight
Waiting for a miracle
Clock-watching; avoiding the 12:12
Looking for another reason
Chosen by him; good riddance (I am just putting a braver face, this shit hurts)
Irreplaceable
Smelling like Byredo Slow Dance
A witch
Everything I stopped doing (!)
Buying cupcakes for his 1-year anniversary in my favourite city
Writing handwritten birthday cards for that one person
Wanting to accidentally run into him
Keeping his stuff
Biting my inner lip
Wanting to understand
Cooking for two
Wanting him back
Hiding
Being glad for meeting him
Loving this city
Reading between the lines; reading the eyes; reading his body language
Believing he is a good person
Not eating
Our rituals without him
Wanting us back
Trusting the “me too”
Chasing
Everything I don't have anymore (!)
His phone number
His hoodies
The birthday card he made for me
His respect and devotion
The desire to share another inside joke
The title of the “girlfriend”
The illusion of a future together
A safe space, a favourite person, my friend
The intimacy of not needing words
My beautiful long tress
His worries
Empathy for his childhood wounds
The tenderness of crying together
Mercy for those who left
The Wednesdays
His word
Everything I don't remember anymore (!)
His intercom number
The feeling of sonder
The colour of his cushions (yes, the ones I built fortresses from)
Why I thought calling each other “bro” was romantic
The Sundays
What I did to deserve this
The safety of waking up in his apartment, then making breakfast, then making love
Things I thought I had, but I don't really…
His hoodies
The birthday card he made for me
His respect
The desire to share another inside joke
The title of the “girlfriend”
A future together
A safe space, a favourite person, my friend
The intimacy of not needing words
My beautiful long tress
His worries
His Empathy
The tenderness of crying together
Mercy for those who left
The Wednesdays
His love and devotion
You loved. You lost. Walk tall, hon, walk tall. And them, not loving you back, it's just…that's shameful.
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