Sometimes, I feel so lost; I hide under the blankets, allowing myself to believe that when I re-emerge you will be there, smiling your condescendingly sweet smile, lecturing me for wasting a beautiful day in bed. You'd argue with me until we'd stumble over own our stupidities and then you would surrender, crawling into bed too so that my face could find that familiar crook between your jaw and shoulder that felt like home and everything, at least for a little while, would feel okay.
But I lift those covers and reality comes rolling in. You aren't there, everything isn't okay and then I have to remind myself that this is what I asked for.
Sometimes, I feel so lost. You were the map to my decisions.
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