the things i never told you

i named a disease after you. little black car disease, which is when you see a car that reminds you so much of your ex’s that you think he is coming to see you and take it all back.

i stole your leather jacket because it smelled like smoke and french fries and home.

i remember crumpling into a ball of pain the day you left me. your voice crackled and rasped on the telephone. i didn’t leave my room for three days.

i can still feel your arms around me. it’s like being held by a ghost. only worse.

'the things i never told you' (c) riain grey 2006. do not reproduce without written permission.