I remember when I would’ve rather spent the rest of my life crawling on the ground trying to find him in cracks and empty spaces all over my life;
I probably whispered his name after I’d fallen asleep while thinking of someone else who I was desperately trying to be better for.
He will always have a special, cleared out space within my heart– much to my poor organ’s disgust– as my love was as true as a perpetual bleeding wound.
They said: ‘never make homes out of people.’ –
I did. What a loathsome mistake it was, but I have now found who I am without him.
Now,
I am healing.