morning breakfast

i woke up swimming in the past.

the thoughts of her, and the pain I caused her, forming in my mind.

i reached down a felt a patch of sweat.

i opened my eyes and closed them, and returned to the past.

years later, waking up like this.

i pulled the covers back and walked into the living room and looked around, it was quiet.

the same couch we once sat on. the memory, still there.

how could I still miss her, when I made the decision to leave?

did I? It could have gone another way.

maybe if we'd talked it through, maybe if we hadn't overreacted, maybe, maybe, maybe.

maybe if that one day had gone differently.

but it's hard to pick which one.

i looked at my phone and my last message, still un replied.

she's with someone.

and here I am.

here we are.