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I pulled your candle out of the garbage can and wiped the spit off of it. That was a new low for me, but obviously I'm not ready to let you go. I wish I had a ton of alcohol in the house. I would get drunk again to try and forget that you don't love me.
New Year's Eve was fine. I listened to music, went to bed at 9:30 and called it a day. Woke up at 3am and spent until dawn asking the robot who you were and how I could have kept you. It was sad when it told me that I should have appeared to have more of a life - to let you lead the tempo and never press you.
I would have done all of it - any of it - to keep you in my orbit.
The rainbows from the prism are in fine form and Klio - the same name as your only cat - wants to get in. I'm not going to let them though. They're sweet, but it's warm enough outside, and I want to continue being alone.
It's odd. I guess I'm not going to get published in Slackpole, but maybe there's still time. It's OK. I can just add it to the litany of shit that sux. Nothing compares to you - not a single thing. I texted you fucking once a fucking gain last night. I'm pathetic. I sent you my rage story of you at the hi-lo and wrote another text after it saying that I loved you and will always welcome you in my life.
I'm so jealous of the others - the past ones - the next ones that get a shot at you. It makes me cry. I haven't cried in a while. At least not, it seems to kind of come in short bursts less than a minute. When I first lost you, I don't even remember time.
No doubt I was just too dramatic.
It kills me that I was - that I might have been - so close to getting into what the robot calls - zone 1 - the people you let in the wall. It also kills me that the only hope I have is to never contact you again and hope that you miss me.
You won't.
You've got your walks in the woods, your cross puzzle, your gym, your bar. Well-played. I've got just my spinning mind and well - that's what I have.
Did you ever like it?
It was so hard that last day. You kept saying you were tired, and I wanted to repeat what the girl who left you said "I didn't come here to be ignored."
You're everywhere. The only safe haven I have is the pizza place because for some reason you hated that place. Oh well.
The flowers outside are beautiful. The pan I made your last biscuits in still has the residue. I can't bring myself to clean it up. It would mean you're really gone.
Klio has given up.
I soon will too. Maybe I'll laugh again in about a century.
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