It is hard to picture the house without you; it is hard to walk into your room when simply no voice is coming out of it, no life in it just your aroma wandering through its walls. When I walk in I try to imagine you sitting down on your bed trying to wake up, or simply looking at the mirror. I try to visualize you in my mind, but believe me it's not that good. When I pass by your room, and see it empty it feels as if you've taken a part of me away. You complete me, you make me the person I want to be, and when I am with you I feel perfect.
Today morning after you left, I entered your room and saw your shirt lying down on the bed and I remembered. I remembered this shirt, the story behind it the day I brought you that shirt so you can wear it but you said it was too hot out there. I just remembered I didn’t have a moment with you, so I sat there for a while reminiscing about the good times we spent together and the good times we might spend later on.
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