Pining

Lying here longing for the person I used to be when he was around. Without him, I am an altogether different person, and not in a better way. I have become cold without him. In some ways, I am smaller. Quieter. Shorter. I was hoping that without him I would not recede into myself – I was hoping that I would grow without him. That after my world with him in it had crumbled, I would build something better. I have not built anything better. I am billowing in the ashes.

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