I pick up my phone a hundred times hoping to see your name come up, typing out messages I never send.

This doesn’t feel real. I can’t comprehend that I can’t message you anymore because I know I won’t get a reply.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen you that it just feels like another day passing by until I see something I want to share with you and remember I no longer can.

The sentimentality sets in as I see the things that you wove into my life, a pang of knowing you thought of me as you picked up the item, turning it over in your hands thinking “she would love this”.

It’s a strange sort of loss, knowing that they’re not there but not feeling like they’re gone.