You came one day and
as usual in such matters
significance filled everything–
your eyes, the things you
knew, the way you turned,
leaned, stood, or sat,
this way or that: when
you left, the area around here rose
a tilted tide, and everything that
offers desolation drained away.

– A.R. Ammons, Everything

The part I hate most about break-ups is waking up and finding the evidence of you among my possessions: tickets to movies are still stuck in my wallet, grocery receipts from home cooked dinner dates, and your wrinkled hankie on the headboard of my bed serve to remind me of how close breaking up is to a futile attempt at leaving a crime scene. It was wonderful and real and wonderful and I killed it.
But I’m not sorry, because finding your hand was (hands down) the most amazing thing to happen to me this year. And you are wonderful, but we’re not right.

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