ello, jello

I’m so sick of crying. Tomorrow was gonna be our 7 month anniversary. Sevens across the board. Our favorite number. The pink crystal necklace I gave her at the beginning snapped apart today. The neighbor’s cats are sad. She was their favorite. Her toothbrush is still next to mine. The shower is still wet from when she used it earlier. The bed feels like ours, even though the last few nights have been sleepless ones. The couch feels like hers cause the imprint of her body is still there. Her cup of water on the coffee table. Her laundry mixed with mine. Her half-eaten pudding I made her while her wisdom teeth wounds healed. This is the moment I’ve been working up to for so long… I’ve been borrowing grief from this moment, and yet it’s just as strong as it’s ever felt. Is this what Marina felt all those years ago? I thought she was ruthless, but could it be that she also mourned me? I’ve long forgotten the taste of her laugh, but Smiley’s is still soft and warm, the tip of my tongue. Fuck, I’m going to miss her. I’m finally free… and so alone.