Excerpt from a Book I will Never Write

17

I remember being 12 and my mom still placing forks where my dad used to sit even though he was never coming home and she used to place pillows on his side of the bed but nothing can mimic a person's breathing if that person isn't coming home especially not cold pillows. And I was 15 when my best friend fell in love with a boy who already had a girlfriend and she called him every night so he could sneak up into her bedroom and then one day he stopped answering her calls and she kept calling even if all she got was the sickening sounds of his voicemail. And I'm 17 now and I can feel the difference in your voice when you tell me goodnight and you stopped kissing me on the forehead and I try to hold my hand like you did but nothing feels the same and I fell in love with you but you stopped answering the phone and coming home for dinner.             
  -Your toothbrush is where you left it.