blindspot

I originally wanted to tell you my fears and my worries, and for you to smile, leaving a soft kiss on my cheek before you left to get tea to calm my shaking hands. You'd come back and I'd thread my fingers through your hair, that godforsaken cat you begged me for cuddling in your lap as you sat under my arm. I'd listen to you tell me stories to make me smile and memories we made and have told over and over.

But this is over now, and i don't know what thought hurts me more, that you're gone, or that you chose to be.