It’s been a month
But it still feels odd speaking about you in the past tense
Whenever I look at your clothes,
Your favourite couch
Your mug
I’m reminded that you’re gone
That I’ll never see you again
Never hear you laugh
Never dance with you
I don’t cry in the shower anymore
But my chest still tightens when I talk about you
Your incessant worrying used to upset me
Yet now I’d give anything to have you here worrying about me
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