The weather changed from a manageable 60 degrees to a pinpricking 30 in the matter of nine hours. My mouth still tastes like him, his fingerprints still etched in my body, while I pull strands of his hair out of my clothes. I don’t want it any other way.

I almost fell from not picking up my foot high enough off the ground, but no one was around except you. I don’t like you. I felt as though I sunk into the ground, swimming through concrete, trying to avoid you.

I didn’t even know you, I still don’t, though you hold such a grip on my mind. You should mean nothing to me, you are nothing to me. I still haven’t said a word to you since the day you ruined everything.

My anxiety already ran rampant, but now it feels like a herd of gazelles running from an earthquake that has already started. Who do you think you are?

You had no right. It runs through my mind daily, and I hope you are happy it does. I didn’t have trust issues till you. Why did you have to talk to me? Couldn’t you just let it go, you had nothing. I bet you wished he picked up the phone, didn’t you? Hoping I ended things, didn’t you?

All because I was wearing his sweatshirt.