I walked into a bookstore today looking like a ghost finally getting out of the shell it was stuck in. hair a mess. lips ****** from continuously biting. eyes red and watery. I knew people were looking and I knew they didn't understand. "why does this girl look like she just got back from a war" "was she just at a funeral or something" yes. yes. I wanted to tell them I will always love him but I will resent him forever. The funeral of our broken memories broken promises broken hearts was a few days ago and I wanted to tell them that I wished I missed it just like they did. I should've never gone. Every where that brought strong vivid memories would forever be a graveyard. My own ******* bed, a graveyard. he used to sleep here I would say. But he left long ago and leaving absolutely no trace. no trace of life no trace of the beautiful love we had. It takes a horrible person to make something so beautiful and turn it into bitter dust. He turned it into a graveyard. and signed his headstone "I'm sorry you weren't good enough"