I walk around all day with a smile on my face.
Acting like a woman whose got her shit together, someone whose breakup did her good.
I tell my friends I am doing great and happier than ever.
I have many deep belly laughs and glasses of wine and boys to kiss.
Many distractions throughout the day to keep my mind busy.
I enjoy life, as anyone should because life is amazing.
It isn’t until I make myself a cup of tea and crawl into bed that it hits me.
Everywhere I look I can picture you as you once were many months ago.
Laying beside me, your blue eyes staring into mine.
Standing in the doorway of my bedroom waiting for me to get ready.
This room haunts me with memories of us.
It doesn’t take long and the tears I swore didn’t exist finally surface.
My stomach aches with regret and curiosity as I think about you.
I stare at my blank phone fantasizing your name will pop up with a text or a phone call.
I play over every inch of our relationship to see if it could’ve been different, as if there was one significant turning point that changed everything.
I have never felt so broken before, by someone I thought would never break me.
It’s been months since you backed out of that driveway and never looked back.
Why am I still looking back?
I am embarrassed to say that I am, so to my friends I pretend I’m looking so far ahead it’s unbelievable.
I wake up to a new day, tell myself it’s not going to happen again.
Put a smile on my face walk out the door and act like I’m not a complete mess.