Tonight is the 63rd night you’ve been gone.
I try not to keep track. I try to move on and do other things like drinking myself to stupor or cutting myself. Yet those pains are dull compared to the gaping wound you left in my heart.
The nights are the worst because you are always present when I close my eyes. Then I wake up and remember you’ve been gone for that long.
I thought to come after you once, to try to make things right and live out the remainder of our days how we planned we would.
Remember?
