Excerpt from a Book I will Never Write

27

"This morning I woke up next to someone else. I rolled over, half blind without my glasses and thought it was you for a second. For a moment I felt at home, the thought of being next to you was a comforting thought. I remember how not even a week ago I awoke next to you, greeted with sloppy morning kisses. But his snoring awoke me from my day dream of you. His choppy brown strangled his face as he tossed and turned, awaking me from my not so deep slumber. His hands grazed my side and pulled me closer to his warm body. As I lay there entangled in him, he raised a hand to move my shoulders next to his own. His stubby knuckles looked like yours, images of waking up next to you rushed through my head. His facial hair was the same as yours, his forearms looked like yours, every one of his details that were illuminated by the soft morning light reminded me of you. I needed to breathe and escape his grasp and any thoughts I had of you. How pathetic it was that I was thinking of you while next to someone else. Will I be forever plagued with memories of you wherever I go?"

Expert from a book I will never write
// You Were Never Mine // February 19th, 2017.