I look up to the sky, and all I think about is you.

It pains me when I see your name on my notifications



or the photos I have of you on my Flickr

or the photo pinned to my dresser

or the notes you left in a tin of mint

or the broken promise of a Bee Movie critique

or the wedding in a small chapel in the boonies

or the names we’ve made for our four [sic] kids

or the thoughts—

these ideas of a life together.



Because it was you who broke my heart.
It was you who left.