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.

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.