I guess this means I miss you.
Staring at places all around my house, all around my town, where you used to be.
Places we used to go.
It's not that I miss being with you, seeing you, or all of those fights we got in to.
I just can't help but feel, off, when I look at the places you aren't.
Like this pillow, next to the one I sleep on, that has a crease right in the middle.
It's like you've just gotten up and left no more than 5 minutes ago.
Not like it's been 3 years.
Or like the bath, which has never felt so large, or lonely.
Now let me remind you, I don't want you back. I don't want to go through that again.
It's just, these spaces you are not in.
They're such, large, prominent, empty, hollow, spaces.
And they feel that way every time I see them.
I sold my car, that part was easy enough.
Now someone else can get that weird, empty feeling whenever they look to their left.
Or maybe they'll fill the space.
Then there'll be one less empty space to remind me of you.
Maybe I'll come around to filling some of these spaces too.
Until then, the spaces you are not, will disturb and bother me.