Every time my phone buzzes.
I hope it’s you.

Shouldn’t feeling this deeply matter?
Shouldn’t all of this love count for something?
Is it really all going to go to waste?

This pain is different.
It’s visceral.
I’m hurting in parts of me I didn’t know could feel pain.
I can’t eat.
When I sleep I dream of him.
I keep telling myself every logical thought.
But it doesn’t keep me from feeling this ****.

My ex told me when I broke up with him:
You don’t love me like you think you love me. Because if you did you wouldn’t be leaving.

One day, you still meet someone, you love more than you could think possible. And you will plan a future with them. You’ll be so sure of it. And he will break your heart.

When that happens, you’ll know how I feel.
Because you don’t feel how I do right now, If you did, you would have never left.

And I now realize, five years later.
He was right. I would have never left.

I can’t eat more than a few bites.
After 2 or 3 I feel stuffed.
It’s probably because my body is processing too many other things right now.
It’s full.

There is no trace of you.
All belongings mailed back.
Not even a rogue sock to show you were here.
No social media post or our love that I can look at and think of when we were happy and debate on deleting.
It’s like you were never here.
Your key no longer on my ring.
Your name not on my tongue.
And yet, I wreak of you.

If I am anything, I am persevering.