I dont think I'll ever recover from the love we had. I'm the one who dropped the vase and watched all of the porcelain shatter all amongst the floor, spreading into every corner of the room. I knew it was nearly impossible to walk without cutting yourself on the glass and that's why you had to leave, that's why we both had to leave. I've swept the floor about a thousand times now. I still watch for you at the doorway, I've written letters that never have been read, I cleanch my pillow at night and sometimes still dream of the smell of your hair in the bed next to me. I know there will never ever be a place for us again but you haunt me like a ghost. I wish I could see a glimpse of you pass me just one more time.