nights spent sleeping on the couch
9:41 a.m.

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It's uncomfortable, you know, sleeping on the couch, but it isn't just that that keeps me awake lately. It's you, or the lack of you, and I can't seem to get past the idea that things will never be the same with us again. You handed me a blanket and made me sleep on the couch, and I was so hurt by that one little action. You cast me out and then proceeded to fall asleep in your bed without even a passing thought or a moment's worth of inner discord. And you have continued to sleep peacefully despite my absence for two weeks now. Suddenly, we are just roommates. It's awful. I can't bear it. It's thrown my whole universe into a cataclysmic collapse. I can't eat, I can't work, and I definitely can't sleep. All I can think about is the ease with which you turned your back on me, and the small excuse you used as your opportunity to do so...all I can think is that you must have never loved me at all. And that's terrible, because I still love you so much...much more than we both know that I should. No one can take your place, no one can ease this suffering, I can't just ignore this and hope that it heals itself because I just feel that it never will. There will always be a time in the middle of the night when I'm clutching couch pillows instead of you, and I'm listening to the hum of the muted television instead of your breathing, and I'm cold and shivering because I'm alone.

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