At night when I look up I still see the constellations I named after you, they’re still there, but you’re not; and it’s just another reminder that you’re gone.
You only called me when she wouldn’t pick up and you kept calling that love, you almost convinced me it was.
But i loved you anyways.
I loved you until I was empty and still, then I found other ways to love you like thinking of you at 4.am while you were too busy falling in love with her.
Sometimes I have to follow your ghost to the house that became abandoned the day you left so I can feel at home. I can’t tell the difference between that house and my heart anymore.