A Million Places

For me one of the worst parts of a break up isn’t necessarily the break up part itself but the aftermath! Dont get me wrong I mean, all of the crying and the loneliness and the alcohol numbing, ice cream eating binges are always awful but it’s the part after that I hate, the part where you just start to think you are over them and BAM! There they are. No, not stood right in front of you but worse, they are EVERYWHERE. They are there in the supermarket isle amongst the katsu curry sauce and the BBQ flavoured Pringles. They are there every time you sit on the front step or when you smell a freshly lit cigarette, I really need to quit that. They are there looking back at you with every fucking unicorn image. Within the words you speak to your cats. Beneath your feet with every delicate daisy you walk by and on my mind with every song we played. This is worse depending on how comfortable you became with the person I’ve found, for those who haven’t really settled in yet you are so lucky! The more you experience with a person the more you have to be reminded of. I guess it was my own fault for letting him into my space too soon, my little bungalow on my quiet street where he sipped coffee from my favourite mug and kissed me gently on the cheek because now, he isn’t just in my bed or on my front step, he’s in a million places. A million places that I just can’t escape.



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