I woke up today
and I felt
extremely
out of place.

I looked around
and everything was the same,
leading me to believe
that I was out of my mind.

but I knew I wasn't.

I walked around my home slowly,
fingers gliding across the newly painted walls
and clasping onto frozen metal of door handles,
then drumming against the
darkened mahogany of the kitchen table
trying to figure out
what was missing.

What was missing?

I was there,
so that wasn't missing.

My wallet was there,
so that wasn't missing.

My coat was there,
so that wasn't missing.

My car was outside,
so that wasn't missing.

My keys were by the door,
so that wasn't missing.

I looked again.

Your keys weren't there,
so that was missing.

Your car wasn't there,
so that was missing.

Your coat wasn't there,
so that was missing.

Your wallet wasn't there,
so that was missing.

Ah, yes.
That's right.

You.

It was you.

You were missing.

It's funny, because every morning
I wake up feeling
extremely
out of place.

And every morning, I look around
and see that everything is the same,
leading me to believe
that I'm out of my mind.

And every morning, I tell myself
that I'm not.

But I know I am.

Because every morning, I walk around my home,
looking for you.

Even though I know
that you're what's missing.

Maybe I should just
leave some notes around the house
reminding myself
that you're what's missing.

Better yet, maybe I should just
leave some notes around the house
reminding myself
that you're never coming back.