I found a box of his things & then I cried again 

it contained a small amount of things: sunglasses he bought me, shirts he both gave me and that I stole, a bracelet he gave me from his trip to Florida (i asked him “isn’t this special to you?” and he replied “yeah but so are you”), the shoes he bought me after I refused, a ticket stub from our first date, and lastly, poems i wrote about him. I knew I shouldn’t have read through them but the masochist in me won and i really felt it hit me.

and the note we left on was bitter and awful and full of hurt and absolute confusion. 

I wasn’t sure who to believe at that point because nothing was adding up and i felt like my brain was going to fucking explode because so much was happening all at once and then you were just gone 

and all that’s left is me and her talking about the past and talking about how we’re gonna make it to the future.

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