It's been months.
I've been bearing the weight of emptiness.
The absence of color on the walls and lipstick stains on post it notes I used to leave you.
The comfort i find in darkness is only there because light shows a world without you and its one I don't want to see.
Going back to the past is like a train ride with no destination on tracks made up of un-kept promises.
I'm sorry that I keep apologizing for still loving you.
I'm sorry that I keep waking up shaking in the middle of night, choking for air as I call out your name.
I'm sorry I still look for your face in the midst of crowded sidewalks.
I tried writing you a letter last night to explain to you the agony of living in this emptiness, but the pen broke, spilled ink on the page and I think it said more than my words ever will.
Despite the fact that you left me on the verge of breaking, I hope you're happy.
I hope that every cigarette you put between your lips knows how lucky it is to be there.
I haven't kissed you in months, but I'll never forget the way you taste.
I'll never forget the way I loved you when my named would roll off your tongue.
Nor the way it feels to be wanted by someone who could make love sound so bitter sweet.