The last time we spoke you said, everyday just bleeds into the next. The love of your life was still sleeping in your bed, although you weren’t sure you were happy. Getting let down is nothing a few bottles of wine can’t fix, we laughed it off. I told you I still wasn’t sure where I was or exactly how I felt. I've never known until they leave, and by then they all forget my face. I can still close my eyes, and describe your every bone and freckle. You said I love to push people away, but at least the distance kept me safe. Always one hand on their cheek, seconds before walking out for good.