This is why.

 

Because when you left, I kept walking along the yellow lines in the middle of the streets, talking to you like you were still following closely behind. I can still feel you breathing on the back of my neck and it gives me chills. I look into the sky at night and discuss the stars with no one in particular and I can feel you there, with your arms around my waist and your face against mine. Day after day I lay on the floor of my bedroom, finding shapes in the bumps on my ceiling and I see you there, the most beautiful face. I can hear your voice every time the wind blows.  It is both comforting and terrifying at the same time. Remembering the days when we talked to each other by staring into one another's eyes and it was perfect. Cutting pictures out of magazines and never using them for anything. Writing I love you on each other's shoes and promising never to throw them away. Discussing our hatred of odd numbers, clowns, and thunderstorms and drawing hearts around eachothers' names. it is as if it never was