I tried. I went out. I had a good time. I didn’t want it to end.

When it ends is when your memory comes back. The routine. The fight.

I posted smiles and luxury. But I’m crying in sweatpants and an old t-shirt.

Reality is, you left me haunted. I’m plagued by the memories of when things were good. Somehow the bad, which happened more than the good, vanishes at night and all I want is your head in my lap.

This hurts more than I show.

Truth is, I’m haunted. i’m tormented. Still wondering why I wasn’t enough for you.

I can’t see anymore. The tears are too thick.