I look at you and I wonder if you're hurting the way I'm hurting.
But you're too busy to notice.
Too busy getting ready for her.
So I go back to gathering my things that are scattered throughout your house. Bore oil, bras, jeans, books, boots, shampoo, tea...all the things that mark my presense. I go back to erasing myself from your life.
Because she is to never know that I existed. That we existed.
But how can I forget that? How can I erase that from my life?
--s10