Someone smiled at me today.

For a very long moment, my broken heart was erased.

The rain poured down in torrents, drumming against the windows as if trying to break through, while inside, I sat motionless, staring at the flickering candle that seemed to hold the last shred of warmth in the cold, silent room. Every drop felt like a heartbeat, a reminder that the world outside was still alive, even if everything inside felt like it had stopped.

So, I woke up this morning and, to my surprise, there was a photo of me asleep in a fetal position on my left side, taken a few hours after midnight. Now, what makes this weird and terrifying is that I live alone.

I was hoping my heartfelt apology, cooking your favorite dinner and letting you have ultimate control of the t.v. remote for the rest of the month would make amends. But upon opening the pantry and seeing you bought Unfrosted Strawberry Pop Tarts, it sent a clear, passive-aggressive message that you’re still mad at me.

As the future folds in upon itself, I find myself drinking in the sky in all its glory - be it brilliant, clear blue; dotted with puffy, cotton clouds; steel gray or midnight black with pinpoints of light twinkling from a distant past.

I can't help but feel insignificant: a speck of meaningless, purposeless life in a vast universe that remains incomprehensible to my small mind, has no end in space or time, indeed, is infinite, sitting above me in shades of blues, grays and blacks that may only exist in my mind.

“Come on, you have to jump now!” she yells as she pulls me hard towards the edge of the bridge.

As I teeter on the edge, looking down into the rushing water, I think, If only I could see her, maybe I could tell if she’s my guardian angel or just another demon living in my head.

Someone at the store asked me what I was doing with my candle. I panicked and lied, I wish I hadn't.

I bought a plant to bring some life into my apartment, but now I’m convinced it’s plotting against me. Every time I water it, I swear I hear it whisper, “One day, you’ll forget and I’ll be in charge.”

As Detective Parker examined the crime scene, he noticed a single glove left behind, a careless mistake by the killer. But when he reached into his own pocket and felt just one glove, a chill ran through him—it was his.

When you said

“You won't get rid of me that easily,”

I thought it meant you wanted me around.

But I know that to you I am just a mirror,

I am nothing beyond my usefulness,

and there has never been an us.