Everything reminds me of you.
From the toothbrush with an "L" written with sharpie next to mine.
To the drawings that are by you on my wall.
The pictures of us around my room.
The little lion I bought when we went thrift store shopping.
From the diffuser I always tried to keep out for you when you came over.
To the pillow that I always left out of your side of the bed.
And the paintings you've made for me hanging up just under the fake record that you used to ask me to Homecoming this year.
From the many sticks of incense that I haven't burned, but I kept because they made me feel like you were here.
To the records you let me borrow, and now won't take back.
The nail polish you gave me that I wear on my fingers, which everyone says looks amazing on me, but I feel like it's nothing out you.
From the pens you love that I bought for you.
To the silly Sherlock Valentines from this year and last year.
The many pictures on my phone, that are mostly of you.
From the my blanket from my childhood that still smells of you.
To the many calls we've shared, I can't bear to delete that history.
But it would seem that all of our history is slowly deleteing,
Like an old computer whose hard drive is becoming too old and unable to hold all of its files anymore.
Is regaining love as easy as it would seem in the movies?
Hollywood baffles me and makes me believe that I may be able to get you back.
I hope Hollywood is right, because I miss you terribly.
Everything reminds me of you.