I still have his favorite
hooded sweatshirt.
I was meant to give it back
when I went to get my things.
But I couldn’t hand it over.
I left it unspoken in the
backseat of my car that day.
It’s all I have left.
The only thing that feels
like him.

I drove home from work
in tears tonight
and I saw that hoodie in my room
when I came in the door.

I held it tight against me
and sobbed into it.
It shouldn’t be here though.
Because neither is he.

The sky lit up different
shades of pink and purple,
yellow and orange.
I could hear the stars singing
that every little thing
is going to be alright.

So instead of folding; I am
sitting in front of my fireplace
with a gin and coke,
listening to music I’ve been
avoiding.

Some day I won’t be sad anymore.
Right?

I heard someone say that
they feel excited about the potential.
The inevitable new love that
will come
instead of letting the darkness in
that heartbreak can bring.

I like that.
I’ve felt that a few times.
When the man I’m talking to
says, how’s work going lady?
And tells me he felt lucky to
have had a messy couch hookup
ten years ago.

I know it’s out there.
Love is waiting for me to be
ready again.