Last week, you were my baby. You were undoubtedly my baby. My own.
You are now some dude.
I can stop talking to you in my head.
I am pacing my apartment, even my cat looks half-orphaned.
I miss you horribly. I think about all the good things we’ve had and I instantaneously scream. But I cannot trust you anymore. Broken.
Jesus Christ, why does this have to hurt so fucking much?