There is a void inside you now that you do not understand, it is filled with the cracking of sticks and the smell of his old gym socks.
The weather is 62 and sunny there, he always told you he would start running, much like you would give up smoking and ripped up tights.
He thought it was disgusting how your lipstick stained his coffee cups.
You found his old hairbrush with hairs still attached, and used toothbrush laying on the floor near your lipstick stained shot glass.
Reminisce you can’t return.
He always smelled like after the down pour, after all the yelling is done,
When you sit in a chair and notice all the cracks in the celing, the bright green light of the computer charger, and you think to yourself, how bad of a person you must be.
Then he disappears to go running maybe, or because it was too hard to handle the way your sunglasses cluttered his nightstand,
Or maybe because you showed him who he really was, the reality of an imperfect being,
