I didn’t know what to feel when you told me it didn’t feel the same anymore. I thought our love was anchored 1,000 feet deep into our sea of lust and I thought we gave each other everything. I swear you told me a million times we were right for each other and that nothing else felt so real. Even on the nights that bourbon lullabies sang you to sleep and crazed images of cigarettes were all you craved, we found a way back to each other. You danced me into a love so real, so indulgent, and my lips never stopped tasting you.
I didn’t know what to say when I came home and you were packing your belongings. All those late night conversations and prescription medications lingered with me after you walked out that door. You pierced me in my most vulnerable places, and now I’m left bleeding on these wooden floors without your words stitching me up.
I don’t know why it’s two years later and your voicemails still put me in comas. I can’t tell you why my heart still aches or why your side of the bed is still waiting for you. Your touch gave me infinite butterflies, and now my stomach is empty.