“We need to move on,” you say. I pretend I’m okay. I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling. The same ceiling I would look at while in the bed with you. I imagine every touch so vividly I almost feel it. I can never take these memories out of my head.

I change the sheets in an attempt to remove you from what used to be my happy place. I lay them down, imagining you laying me down in the same spot. I look over to the floor, imaging two sets of clothing thrown messily next to the bed. You are not here though, and neither are the clothes.

Songs that remind me of you are removed from my playlists and replaced with breakup songs. If I hear a song that makes me think of you, I cry. Some of my favorites are now as bad as nails on a chalkboard.

The lights strung around my room remind me of the glow in your eyes as you looked up toward them. I would sit on top of you and look down at your face, taking in every detail. I close my eyes and your image stains my eyelids.

As I try to fall asleep at night, I want to feel your arms around me. I remember how safe and warm that felt. I shiver at the sudden feeling of coldness that overtakes me. I wish you would just come here and hold me.

How do I move on? You are everywhere. You are everything. I see you everywhere I go. I feel your every touch. You are every thought. My stomach churns when I picture the things we’ve shared together. The lump in my throat grows. Moving on isn’t something I can do when I see you everyday, whether you are here or not. Your presence has stained my life. I will not be the same. Ever.