Sometimes I think I’ll always be sad
I often wonder how people seem so happy
Sometimes I think I’ll always cry when I’m hurt
I often wonder how people hold back tears
Sometimes I think I’ll always be shy
I often wonder how people start conversations
Sometimes I think I’ll always be sensitive
I often wonder how people don’t get offended
Sometimes I think I’m hard to love
I often wonder how others just go with the flow

Even on my deathbed,

I will remember how you didn’t want to share what we had with the world.

I was a ***** little secret.

Waking up used to be so hard
You no longer by my side
The light hurt my eyes
Disappointed in the fact that I didn’t die in my sleep.
Haven’t drank water in days
Hurt to move
Not wanting to go to work
“I’m a ******* mess” I whisper into my pillow
My voice cracked from dehydration
Thinking of what excuse I can use today to call in sick.
Paint on a fake smile and a fake laugh
Eating tears for breakfast, lunch, and dinner
Smoking cigarettes to suppress my appetite
“Have you lost weight?” My boss asks, concerned.
“Hard to eat when you’re divorced...” I smile and say in a sarcastic tone.
No one gets my humor here in this new city. It’s hard to be funny.
I remember when you laughed at everything I said.
When you did, I wouldn’t feel so **** useless
But now I laugh alone and then cry at the fact that I don’t have you anymore.
Someone I thought would always be my best friend.
I dont recognize the girl in the mirror.
She looks older, more wrinkles
Pale skin and chapped lips
Grown roots and bones.
I remember when I used to try and care about myself.
I begin to wonder if I’ll ever know what it feels like to be “together” again.
Was I ever?

My best friend told me divorce is like death
You mourn the same, mourn the relationship that has died.
That makes sense, I think.
Because the day you moved out,
You left all of your jackets hanging in the closet
You didn’t care enough to pack them
So, in I walked and hugged them all in a tight embrace
And inhaled the smell you left behind
My tears soaked the dense fabric as I fell to the floor
I cried so hard I think the neighbors below us, I mean me, complained
I tossed all your jackets in the air and let them land on my cold skinny body.

And I wept.
And I wept.
And I wept.
And I slept.



“Ashley, can you send me my jackets?”


I. Threw. Your. *******. Jackets. In. The. Trash.

I’ll never forget how you held my hand under the Amsterdam sky. The way you drove on the German Autobahn. I’ll never forget how you looked at me, while we inhaled the **** soaked air. I remember feeling an indescribable happiness hugging you and seeing the boats pass underneath us. I remember thinking we could live here. Start a new life. Learn the language. Things are so simple in Europe. Now, it’s just a distant memory that I will savor and store in the back of my head.